Harry Potter And The New Rising
by Merlindamage
Summary: For 19 years, there was peace. However, a new threat has emerged and she has promised to pick up where Voldemort left off. Her plan involves destroying Harry Potter's family, and throwing the magical world into chaos. Can Harry survive?
1. Beginning

**Author's Note: **Please excuse the formatting. There are three different scenes below, and has removed my dividers.

The room was filled with darkness. Cold stone floors and hard walls made the room feel more depressing. Black curtains billowed, occasionally allowing in light from the bright moonlit sky outside. Two people were inside of this room. One sat in the chair, with her back facing the window. The other was completely covered in darkness, with just the tiniest bit of his cloak illuminated.

"What makes you think you can win?" spoke the voice from the shadows. Though the man's voice was deep, it was barely above a whisper, as though he was scared the walls would hear.

"I know I can win," said the voice from the chair. It was that of a female and it was harsh as though she was in pain.

"He defeated the Dark Lord," said the man's voice.

"He did not _defeat_ anyone," she spat. "Potter made the Dark Lord's own spell rebound back on him. He showed no extraordinary skills."

"Why now? It's been 19 years since he defeated the Dark Lord. Others have tried to kill Potter for their revenge. What will make your attempt any different?" the man said.

"The others that have tried were unorganized. They were Death Eaters on the run. Take McNair for example. He tried to kill Potter in broad day light in Diagon Alley; nothing more than an act of desperation. The world is ready for me now. It's been long enough that those who think as the Dark Lord once did have not had anyone to rally under. I shall lead them."

"He is an Auror now though," the man continued, as though determined to find some flaw in her plans.

"Of course he is an Auror, you fool," she said, and he voice had become a bit louder, "Head of the Auror department in fact. However look at the circumstances. Though he stumbled to defeat the Dark Lord, he still managed the task. Would you not rush to make him an Auror? The fame he would bring is endless. He would inspire many to want to join their ranks, and at a time when the Ministry of Magic was corrupt, who else would they want on their side."

"True," said the man. "However, what makes you think you can win now?"

"I am a descendant of one of the oldest magical families in England. Power flows through my veins. I am very accomplished at forms of magic in which Potter remains ignorant. I studied the rise of the Dark Lord. I know where the flaws in his plans and the cracks in his armor were. No one is perfect, and in order to be better than someone, takes a bit of admiration. Potter has gotten older, and though I doubt that his skills have gotten any worse, I know where it is that Potter will falter. I know the one thing that will be Harry Potter's downfall."

"What?" asked the man eagerly, his voice still just above a whisper.

"Harry Potter has a heart," she stated. "No mater how far into battle he is, his attention is always divided between those close to him. This time around however, I have the upper hand. Potter will have no psychic link to my mind. I have no clever schemes to hide pieces of my soul across the country. Potter will have to use his feeble mind to try and stop me, and if he falters, that is when I will swoop in and take what he hold's most dear to him."

"What does he hold most dear?"

"His family," said the woman with a tone of finality in her voice. "Now, there is work to be done."

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Albus Severus Potter walked along the narrow hall of the Hogwarts Express. His cousin Rose was right next to him. The duo looked around the train, noticing the kids in older years smiling and greeting their old friends. Albus opened his mouth to speak when he felt something hard hit him in the back of his head. He turned to see his older brother James.

"What did you do that for?" asked Albus, rubbing the spot where he had been hit at.

"Move out of the way, Al," said his older brother. "I have to get over to my usual compartment."

"Where am I supposed to sit?" asked Albus.

"Find an empty compartment and park yourself there," said James. "Now, excuse me," he said and he walked off, and entered a compartment.

"Let's go this way," said Rose, grabbing Albus. The duo walked swiftly, trying to find an empty compartment. However, it seemed that they were all filled. Finally, at the far end of the train, they found an empty compartment. They sat down and Rose began to talk.

"I'm so excited. Mum was telling me all about how they sort us into houses and I'm pretty sure that I want to be in Gryffindor. Mum and dad were there, so were your parents," she said eagerly.

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" asked Albus, turning his head to look at his cousin.

"There's nothing _wrong _with any of the houses," she said. "Different qualities for different houses, that's all.

Albus opened his mouth to speak, when the door to the compartment slid open. A short pale boy with platinum blonde hair stepped inside.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he said. "All the other compartments are full and I was wondering if I'd be able to share this one with you."

"Sure," said Albus, recognizing the boy.

The young child took a seat next to Rose, across from Albus.

"Your name is Scorpius, right?" asked Rose.

"Yeah, how did you know?" he asked.

"My dad pointed your father out to us," she said. "I think they were old friends or something like that."

"No," said Scorpius. "They weren't friends. My dad told me so. He says that they were enemies, but they have a mutual respect for one another now. He wouldn't tell me anything more than that. Anyways, what are your names?"

Rose was the first to speak. "I'm Rose Weasley, nice to meet you," she said. Scorpius smiled weakly.

It was Albus' turn. He was a bit hesitant, as he was unsure of whether or not he liked the boy. "My name is Albus…Albus Potter," he said.

Scorpius' eyes bulged for a minute. He looked Albus over one time from head to toe.

"What is it?" said Albus, sitting up a bit more.

"You're father wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter, would he?" asked the platinum haired youth.

"Yeah.Why?" Albus looked at the boy. "How do you know who my father is?"

"What do you mean?" Scorpius asked. He looked at the boy in amazement. "You mean to tell me that you don't know who your father is?

"I think you should just get to the point," said Albus, his patience was wearing thin.

"You're father is famous, and you mean to tell me that you didn't know? He's in so many books. Didn't people stare at him when you got onto the platform? I know he had to tell you something. He is one of _the_ most famous wizards of the past century,"

Albus looked at the boy. Though he wanted to believe that his parents were always open with him, something in the boy's cold eyes made him believe that he was not lying.

"He didn't tell you," Said Scorpius. It was a statement, not a question. "Well, _my_ father says that _your_ father isn't really all that great. He was there the night that he did it and-"

"Did what?" Albus interrupted.

"You've got to be joking," said Scorpius. "You mean to tell me you've never heard of the Dark Lord?"

Albus turned to look at Rose, who for the most part had stayed out of the conversation. One question came to mind. "How did you not know?" Albus asked his cousin. "You read through the entire summer reading list. There was no way you couldn't have known."

Rose looked down for a moment before looking up at her cousin. Tears filled her eyes. "Oh Albus," she said. "I'm sorry. But my mum and dad told me that not to mention anything about it. They said that even though we're family, it was your dad's place to tell you. I don't know why he wouldn't tell you. He told James before his first year and-"

"He told James!?" Albus yelled. He could hear other compartment doors opening trying to see where the noise had come from.

Albus was beyond angry. He knew that his parents had lives before children, but to find out that his father was a famous wizard and he had not known about it had been a blow to the little boy. It was very much unlike his father to keep secrets, especially from him. Many a night Albus had spent sitting on his father's lap in his study, talking with him and helping him with his work. So many opportunities had presented themselves for him to tell his son, and yet he had taken none of them.

The rest of the ride passed by, uneventful. As they got close to the school, both Albus and Scorpius changed to their school robes. They reached the Hogsmeade station and exited the train. Albus and Rose saw James and watched him greet Hagrid. They walked over to the giant and smiled kindly.

"'Ello there Rose, Albus," he greeted in his large gruff voice. "Who's your friend?" he asked, pointing to Scorpius who had walked off the train with them. Hagrid did not allow them to answer as he answered his own question. "You must be Draco Malfoy's son. Blimey, you look just like em." Scorpius seemed to be a bit scared of Hagrid; however he still managed to force a smile out.

"Albus, you look jus' like your father in this light. I remember when he first got off the train, all those years ago. You even have his eyes. They were his mother's eyes, you know," Hagrid said matter-of-factly. "No time to catch up now though. There'll be plen'y o' time for that at the end of the week when you lot come to see me."

Albus, Rose, and Scorpius all climbed into a boat, and were soon joined by a mousy haired boy. The crossed the surfaces of the black lake, watching it gently ripple with their movement. They looked in amazement at the other boats moving across the water, of course being moved by magic.

Very quickly they reached the castle. Albus looked around and did not see James anywhere and he assumed he was already aside, seated with his fellow Gryffindors.

Albus opened his mouth to speak to Rose, when he was interrupted. Someone had just appeared at the front of the queue of first years. The person was young, appearing to be in her mid thirties. She had deep brown hair and light brown eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing the traditional jet black Hogwarts robes. Her smile was kind and wide.

"Hello everyone," she greeted. "My name is Hanna McCuliber. You can all call me Professor McCuliber. I am the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, as well as the head of Ravenclaw House. In a moment, you all will walk through these large doors. Your name will be called and you will be sorted into one of the four houses. After your name has been called, you will go to sit with your house. Is this clear to everyone?" There was a small murmur among the crowd. She smiled and pushed the large oak doors open. The young students walked in quickly, noticing the floating candles and the ceiling that reflected the night sky outside. They also noticed the stares of all the students in the room. Albus noticed his brother James, who smiled at him, and gave him the thumbs up. Though he could be a prat at times, James cared for his brother.

Albus turned his attention to the front of the room where he watched as a very old looking hat was placed on a stool. He was even more surprised when the brim of the hat opened and it a voice began to speak.

_More than a thousand years ago,_

_When this building was so new,_

_The greatest wizards of the age,_

_Decided to make it a school_

_The four great friends of varying skills_

_Decided on whom to take_

_They needed to provide their knowledge,_

_As well as make it great_

_They disagreed on what criteria,_

_Would make a student bright,_

_They told me what they wanted,_

_And brought me to life_

_Gryffindor, who was of course,_

_The bravest of the four,_

_Decided that he would take the courageous,_

_And make them something more_

_Old Slytherin, from green he came,_

_Decided that only those,_

_Whose blood was pure and mind was sly,_

_Could study in his shadow_

_Most fair, Rowena Ravenclaw,_

_The most clever of the bunch,_

_Decided that those who were most like her,_

_Were wise enough to take the hunch_

_And old Helga Hufflepuff,_

_Whose friendship was so true_

_Took only those most loyal of students_

_And said I know what to do_

_So now the task has come to me,_

_And I take it with very much pleasure,_

_For when you are sorted in your house,_

_Its your housemates you will treasure,_

_Though separate rooms you all will have,_

_I beg you not to follow old trends,_

_For though the houses are different,_

_Their founders were all friends_

_So you know now what's inside my head,_

_And the time is wearing thin,_

_They call me the Sorting Hat,_

_Let the sorting now begin_

A very loud applause broke out in the Great Hall. All the students clapped and a few whistled. However, after a moment, the noise died name and Professor McCuliber called the first name.

"Abbot, Delilah," she said. A small skinny blonde haired girl made her way up to the stage. She sat on the stool and the hat was placed on her head. After a few seconds, the hat yelled out "Hufflepuff," and the girl ran over to the table, being welcomed by the cheers of her fellow students.

The rest of the sorting went this way. Albus and Rose whispered to each other. It was soon Scorpius' turn to be sorted. He sat on the stool, and the hat was placed on his head. It was there for the shortest time of anyone before calling out "Slytherin". Scorpius nodded once more to Albus and Rose before heading over to join his house at the table. The sorting continued and soon it was Albus' turn to be sorted. He felt Rose pat him on the shoulder and he walked to the stage. He sat on the stool and felt the hat being placed on his head.

"Another Potter, eh?" said a voice that had come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. "Yes, I remember. I see it all here. You're just like your father was when I sorted him."

"Not Slytherin, please," Albus thought and spoke at the same time.

"Are you sure? You're namesake was a Slytherin, and he did great things. You could be great in Slytherin. I see it all here," said the hat.

"I've heard bad thing's about Slytherin," he said.

"You would do well not to listen to thing's you hear. If not Slytherin, the better be GRYFFINDOR!!!"

Albus smiled as he headed towards his table. His brother greeted him with a wide smile and a pat on the back. He sat down, after being greeted by some fellow first years and those in other years. Soon after, his cousin joined him at the table. The duo smiled at one another. After the sorting had concluded, a man stepped up to the podium.

He appeared to be a kind soul. He did not look exceptionally aged, appearing to be about fifty years old. His hair was graying, with spots of white in the front. His hair was wild, and just past his shoulder. His eyes were of some shade of lavender and seemed to shine and twinkle, even from the podium. He was wearing robes of midnight blue, and a hat to match. Albus noticed the single hoop earring adorning the man's left ear.

"Good evening everyone. To all of our returning students, welcome back. Welcome to all new students. For those of you who do not know, my name is Magnus McGonagall. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There are a few announcement to be made, however, I know that they day has made you all a bit hungry. Dig in," he finished and clapped his hands. Food of all kinds and quantities appeared on the large house tables.

After about an hour or so, when the food was done and everyone was no longer hungry, the headmaster stood again to address the school.

"Now that everyone has been fed, there are a few announcements. Firstly, the Forbidden Forest is called forbidden for just that reason. Please stay clear of it at all costs unless accompanied by a Professor. Next, I would like to introduce our new Head Boy and Girl. Head Boy is Christian Macmillan. Head Girl is Victorie Weasley," he said. He paused here to allow the two to stand and take applause. He then continued on. "Quidditch captains must discuss their schedules with their House Heads. I would also like to take this opportunity to tell everyone that in the spirit of competition, Professors McCuliber, Sinastra and Longbottom have devised a clever competition to be taking place this year. You will all be notified of the exact circumstances and rules shortly. First years, please follow your Prefects to your houses. And again, welcome to Hogwarts," he finished, to much applause.

Albus stood and found his house Prefects. They led him up to the Gryffindor dormitory where a portrait of a fat lady sat outside. They told her the password was "Polyjuice" and gained entry. Albus had already began making friends among his peers, yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he still wondered about Scorpius. He already had plans to write his father a letter, wondering why he had not told him anything about his past. He thought about his owl upstairs and wondered if she was doing alright, making a mental note to go and see her the next day. Soon after though, Albus only had thoughts of his cozy four poster bed.

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The next day had already dawned. A tall man sat in his office. A lightning bolt shaped scar was on his forehead, barely covered by his unruly jet black hair. He emerald green eyes were focused on a piece of paper on his desk. He was reading up on a report that he would need for a meeting later in the day. A soft tap came to the door.

"Come in," he said, sitting up a bit more. The door opened and in walked a man Harry recognized immediately.

"Minister, you know you don't need to knock on my door," said Harry, standing to shake his hand.

"Harry" began the man in his deep slow voice, "you know that after all these years, you have no need to call me minister. How long have we known one another? There are no more formalities between us."

"Sorry Kingsley, it's a habit," Harry apologized. "What brings you down here so early in the morning? I thought you were leaving for Peru soon to meet with the foreign ambassador."

"Yes, Harry, I was. However, something came to my attention and the trip had to be postponed. I know it is very unlike me, but I had to bring it directly to you and I took special care to make sure that the Daily Prophet would not get word of it."

Harry looked at his old friend. "What is it?"

"Harry, it's something we haven't seen in 19 years," said Kingsley, and he noticed Harry's eyes grow wide.

"Please tell me you're joking," Harry said.

"Yes, the Dark Mark," said Kingsley gravely.


	2. Bring On The Night

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone for all the great reviews. For an author, reviews are like food, and you guys are keeping me fat and happy. I think you're going to like this chapter, and the end will probably be a shocker to you as well. Continue reviewing please…

"Are you sure it's the mark?" asked Harry, staring into the eyes of the minister. "How would someone know how to summon it? I thought the spell was lost after we rounded up the last of the Death Eaters."

"Harry, though we rounded up all of his followers who took the mark, remember that the mark was only intended for those in his inner circle. One small slip of the tongue could have given anyone the spell."

"Where was it sent up at? Has anyone else seen it? Were there any deaths?" asked Harry. His mind was racing already.

"It was sent up over a small cottage in a place called Spinner's End," he explained. "This is all I know. Luckily, one of my closer people was on patrol. He cast a Disillusionment Charm over the area and came directly to me with the news. I decided that you and I should investigate it," he continued. He noticed a look in Harry's eyes. "Do not worry Harry, I will notify the Prophet. However, I do not want to cause any panic before I have completely surveyed the area."

"Okay, I think we should go now. I'll notify my secretary to let everyone know I'm out of the office for the day," said Harry, as he stood and placed his wand in his pocket. "You sure you're still up for it?" Harry joked. "You know, you haven't been an official auror for quite some time. Sure your skills are up to par?"

Kingsley grinned. "I live for this," he said simply.

Harry decided that it would look too suspicious if he and Kingsley left the building together. Though people knew the two were friends, it would still arouse some suspicion. Kingsley left first, followed by Harry. They soon arrived at the area known as Spinner's End.

It was a small rundown street close to an old industrial area. A few gray clouds hung in the sky, making the area appear more depressed than it was. There was a small dirty river, with litter strewn about. There didn't appear to be anyone around the area, giving it the look of an old muggle horror movie.

"Kingsley, does anyone live here?" asked Harry as they approached the house.

"No one of magical heritage has inhabited this area for 19 years," he explained.

"Who used to live here?" asked Harry. He was sure he had heard the name from somewhere before.

"Severus Snape," said Kingsley, causing Harry to stop dead in his tracks.

"Kingsley, this is getting stranger and stranger by the second. Someone summons the Dark Mark which hasn't been seen in just about two decades. Not only do they do it, but they do it over the house of a former Death Eater and spy. Something isn't right," he said as they started walking again. They had just about reached the house when they walked through the Disillusionment Charm. Harry looked up to see the Dark Mark hanging high in the sky. It symbolized so much, and just looking at it brought back old memories.

"Finite Incantatem," said Harry, pointing his wand at the Mark. It quickly disappeared. They walked up to one of the windows and tired to look inside. A thick shield of dust covered the windows, making it impossible to see anything except the thick cobwebs on the outside of the window. The duo made their way to the front door.

"Alohomora," whispered Kingsley, pointing his wand at the lock. He then pushed the door open and walked inside, Harry right behind him.

They walked into what appeared to be a sitting room. However there was not much room for sitting. Books covered every part of the walls. Against one of the walls, a sofa, an armchair and a very rickety looking table sat. The room gave off the impression of being a padded room in St. Mungo's.

"Are you sure he used to live here?" asked Harry, lighting several candles around the room. "It doesn't look as though anyone's lived here since…ever," he said.

"Let's have a look around," said Kingsley.

The pair looked around the eerie house. It seemed to have been undisturbed since its one time owner had died. They tried to find something out of place, even using other spells to reveal the presence of another person. However, there was nothing else to be found.

"I don't see anything," said Harry. "But there is something here, I just know it," he said.

"But If there is nothing here, we might as well leave," said Kingsley. "I believe it was just a prank or something; a prank that was not funny and one that will be investigated into, but a prank nonetheless." They turned to leave, however Harry stopped.

"Wait," he said, turning back into the house. "How could we miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Severus Snape was Potions master at Hogwarts," Harry said.

"Yes, I know," said Kingsley.

"How is it possible that we did not see a single potions ingredient? There was not even so much as a vial of water in there. He had to keep it all somewhere," explained Harry.

"Yes," agreed Harry. "Let's go back and reexamine this house."

They entered the house again, this time looking for something they had missed. They searched and tried to find the obvious. Harry pointed his wand at one of the bookshelves and finally found that there was a concealed door behind it. Behind the door was a stair case that led down to a circular room.

Harry lit the candles in this room and was startled at what was there. It appeared as though some sort of struggle had taken place. He could not tell how long it had been, however, he was sure it had happened. There were small holes and piles of rubble on the floor. Vials of potion ingredients were broken on the floor.

"Something happened here," said Harry. "I just wish we knew what it was," Harry said.

"Well," said Kingsley, "Maybe this might give us a clue," he said. Harry turned to him. Kingsley had his illuminated wand pointed at a spot on the wall. Written in magical letters that glowed red and floated by themselves was the word: Traitor

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Albus was downstairs in the Common room. It was early in the morning and he was joined up with a few of his dorm mates, looking at a new posting that had been put up over night. It contained the details of the contest that the Headmaster had mentioned the night before.

_**The Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt Has Arrived!!**_

_Throughout the school year, four very unique riddles will be given to each House. Each of the Houses will get the same riddle and must work together in their Houses to try and solve it. The answer to each of the riddles is an object. Once the object it found and collected, it must be presented to your Head of House. The specific rules are as follows:_

_-With four clues being distributed throughout the school year, two will be given before Christmas break, and two after. _

_-You cannot move onto the next clue until you have solved the previous one._

_-There are four specific dates at which the clues will be dispersed. If a House solves their riddle before the day of the next clue is to be given, they must still wait for the next clue to be released._

_-It is a competition, therefore it is ill-advised that you share any of the information that your House has learned with members of other Houses._

_-100 House points will be given to whichever House solves the riddle first at each interval. The winner will be declared the end of the year. The winner will be determined by the first House to have solved all four clues. The prizes to be given to the winning House will be a trophy congratulating them, a ball thrown in their honor, and a trip exclusively for their House to Hogsmeade where they will have a one hour shopping spree paid for by the school in any shop they request. _

Albus looked at the note and read it again. He smiled in anticipation and could not wait for the day when the first clue would be delivered. He greeted Rose as she came down to read the note, also saying hello to one of her friends that was with her.

Albus turned and walked over to one of his friends. The boy's name was Jonathan Scamander. He was about the same height as Albus. He had pale dirty blonde hair and misty blue eyes. The look on his face always gave off the impression that he was surprised. The two had bed's that were next to one another, and they seemed to click instantly.

"Albus, did you read the note about the contest?" asked the boy, tucking the magazine he was reading into his pocket.

"Yeah, it looks like it's gonna be fun, don't you think?" said Albus.

"What do you think we'll have to find?" asked Jonathan. "I hope it's nothing too hard."

"Me too," agreed Albus. "But I doubt it'll be anything too difficult. Anyways, have you been down to breakfast yet? We have to get our schedules."

"Let's go. I was waiting for you, and I had to find my magazine…the naggle's hid it, but luckily I found it."

Albus looked at the boy with a puzzling look before the two headed down to breakfast.

They made their way downstairs, stopping to say hello to James who informed Albus that he would be trying out for the beater position because he wanted to be on the Quidditch team, just as their father had done. Albus could have kicked himself. He could not believe that he had forgotten about writing to his parents. His anger arose once more. Once he got down to the Great Hall, he found himself writing a letter to his father, wondering why he had not told him about his past. He would have liked to ask James about it, but he knew his brother would not tell him anything. After he finished writing, he tucked the letter in his robes.

Soon, the head of Gryffindor, Professor Longbottom, came around handing out schedules. Albus had heard from James that Professor Longbottom was kind, as well as a great Herbology professor. He stopped and looked at Albus.

"You must be Harry's son," he said, handing the boy his schedule. "You look just like he did in our first year. You've even got his eyes, and even his wild hair."

"Yeah, I've heard that a lot," said Albus, smiling at the man.

"See you later than," said Professor Longbottom, continuing his way around the table.

Albus looked down at his schedule. Today he had Charms, Herbology, and double Potions. He yawned loudly.

"You might want to cover your mouth next time you do that," commented Rose loudly. "It's quite rude, and no one wants your hot breath all over their food."

"I agree with her," came the voice of Victorie Weasley, Albus' and Rose's older cousin. She smiled as she walked past, going to join her fellow seventh years at the end of the table.

"I think we should start walking to class," said Rose.

Albus, Rose, and Jonathan began walking out of the Great Hall. On their way out, Scorpius walked in. Rose and Albus waved, only to get a small nod in return as he scurried past them to catch up with his fellow Slytherins. They turned to look at him as they walked.

They walked slowly to the Charms room, talking along the way.

"I've really got to send this letter to my father," said Albus. "I can't believe he didn't tell me anything about…well anything."

Rose looked at him before speaking. "Well, if he didn't tell you, I bet he had a pretty good reason. Or it could have just slipped his mind. He is quite busy most of the time," she said.

"You're just trying to cover up the fact that you knew and didn't tell me," said Albus.

Rose was very quick to change the subject. "So, Jonathan, what does your mum do?"

The boy's eyes sparkled at this question. "She's not in the country. She left for Prague shortly before I came to school. She's looking for a beast she wants to study for her newest book."

"That sounds like fun," said Rose. "Aren't you guys excited about this? Our first class!"

"Thrilled," said Albus in the dullest voice he could muster.

They arrived at the Charms classroom, entering to find some of there fellow Gryffindors, as well as some Ravenclaws. The three took seats close to the front, right next to the aisle. They pulled out their text books and waited.

They didn't have to wait much longer though. The door to the side of the Charms classroom opened and the professor walked in from her office.

"Good morning class," she began in a very happy sounding voice. "My name is Professor Juniper, and I will be teaching you Charms this year," she beamed.

Professor Juniper gave off the impression of supreme happiness. She appeared to be in her early thirties. She was wearing the traditional Hogwarts black robes, but with one change. She had somehow managed to adorn hers with thin white pinstripes that went from top to bottom of the robe. She had marvelous gray eyes and radiant skin. Her hair was jet black and cut very, very short and spiky in the front.

"For those of you who do not know, I am the head of Hufflepuff. I am thrilled to be able to teach you all the wonderful branch of magic known as Charms. Charms will most likely be the branch of music that you use most often. Charms are used in everyday life. Can anyone think of a few ways that we can apply charms in everyday life?"

Quite a few hands went up, as most anticipated it would be the easiest question of the school year and the easiest way to earn some class participation points. Professor Juniper pointed to a girl named Louise sitting next to Rose.

"People in St. Mungo's use healing charms in everyday life," she said. "They heal bones and clear up bruises, as well as whatever else might ale someone."

"Very good dear," said Professor Juniper. "Five points to Gryffindor. Who else has a use for Charms in everyday life?" She gazed around the room, allowing her eyes and finger to land on the bright eyes of Albus.

"Cleaning," he said. "My grandmother is always using cleaning spells when I go to her house."

"That's correct as well. Another five points to Gryffindor," she said. "Come on now, there are a few more uses," she continued. She went on calling students and awarding points. About a quarter ways into the class, she told everyone that they were going to be trying a very simple charm. "I'm going to teach you a very basic charm known as the Levitation Charm. The incantation is very simple; however, it's the wand movement that is very important. The most basic of all magical wand movements is the swish and flick," she explained. She demonstrated this by circling then jabbing at something invisible with her wand. "Now, I'd like you all to try and to this same, without the incantation."

Everyone in the class did this. There was nothing complicated about the wand movement. However, everyone was very anxious as it would be the first time they tried real magic.

"Now, please everyone, repeat after me. Wingardium Leviosa."

The class repeated the word back to her three times. She made sure to check that no one was stretching any of the letters or holding anything too long. She pulled a box up onto her desk and with a quick wand movement, a feather appeared in front of each of the students and the box disappeared. "Now, using both the wand movement and spell I have taught you, I'd like you all to try and make your feathers float back onto my desk. Please, do not be alarmed if you can't do it on the first try."

Albus, Rose, and Jonathan all pointed their wands at their respective feathers and said the incantation. All three feathers lay still as though held down by some invisible weight. After a few more attempts, which all produced similar results, they looked around to notice that no one else was having much luck either. A few people had gotten their feathers to do a little wave, and one boy had even knocked his feather on the floor and claimed he made it levitate there. After a few more minutes, Professor Juniper spoke again.

"Well, there's just about a minute or so left in the class, so how about this one little challenge? I'll give 15 points to the house that has the first student to do the levitation charm," she said cheerfully.

This had lit a fire under the students. Shouts of "Wingardium Leviosa" were being heard loudly from everyone. They each wanted a chance to earn their house some points. Finally, a Ravenclaw boy with light brown hair managed to make his feather float back to the desk. Professor Juniper happily awarded the points. She told everyone that homework was to practice the charm and make sure they could perform it correctly for the next class. She then dismissed them.

Jonathan and Rose walked back to the dormitory as they had sometime before their next class. Albus however decided it was time to go and mail the letter to his father. He reached the Owelry, calling down his gray and white owl. His father had suggested he name the owl Hedwig because he once had an owl by that name.

"Hedwig," Albus began, "I need you to take this to my father." The owl looked at him curiously. "Yes, I know it's a bit early in the year, but it's important." He knew that if she could have, she would have nodded before gently nipping at his ear and flying off.

Albus turned to leave, however he was greeted with the sight of a familiar face. Scorpius Malfoy was standing there, calling down one of the school owls.

"Hey Scorpius," said Albus warmly.

"Potter," he returned.

"How have things been with you? We haven't seen much of each other since yesterday."

"Everything is fine with me," he said. "I've just come from my first class and need to ask my father about something."

"Really? What?"

"It's not really any of your concern," said Scorpius dryly.

Albus surveyed they boy's eyes once more and saw something in them he had not seen yesterday. "Well, I'll be off," he said. As Albus made his way down the stairs, he heard Scorpius say, "I hope to see you around." Albus was surprised he had said this. Though it had only been a day since they had met, Scorpius seemed to be growing colder towards his Gryffindor friends. Albus got the feeling that Scorpius was not sure if he should be friends with them or not.

Herbology passed without much happening. Professor Longbottom was a great teacher, talking about the plants with so much passion. He explained the many uses of plants for medicinal usage, as wells as some of the plants they would be using throughout the school year. He didn't give them any homework.

After a quick lunch where Jonathan continued explaining about what his parents did, they headed down to the dungeons for Potions. They had this class with the Slytherins. Albus, Rose and Jonathan took seats in the middle of the class. Since it was two to a desk, Rose and Jonathan sat together, allowing Albus to instead share a desk with another boy from their year, Tyler.

Professor Delilah Dark water walked into the class, her black robes billowed as she did this. She got to the front of the class and swiftly turned around. She immediately gave off the air of someone who would take no nonsense. She had jet black hair that was pulled into a tight bun. Her eyes were very dark, almost appearing to be black. There was certain sadness in her eyes that also seemed to be etched into every part of her face. She looked like a woman who had been through a lot.

"Good afternoon class," she said. "My name is Professor Darkwater. I will be teaching you all the delicate art that is potion-making. This class can be the worst or the best class that you take in your seven years at Hogwarts, depending on how you make it. I will not tolerate nonsense of any kind. Now, I know that you all have of course read the text, so I would like you all to please tell me of some potions you have heard of. They do not necessarily have to be from the text book, but any potions in general."

Her eyes gazed around the room, landing on Scorpius. "Scorpius, go ahead."

"There is one called the Draught of Living Death," he said.

"Correct," she said. "Do you know anything else about it?"

"I read it's called that because it puts the person in a sleep so deep they can't be woken up. So even though they're still alive, they might as well be dead since they couldn't wake up if they wanted to."

The rest of the class went on like this. Many different potions were names. For homework, they were assigned half a roll of parchment about cures for the most common poisons.

The rest of the day was spent in the Common Room, only coming down for dinner. The first year Gryffindors buzzed that night because they had their flying lessons the next day.

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"Did they go to the traitor's house?" asked the woman, once again perched in her chair.

"Yes. They saw the words and the Mark, and they do not know what to make of any of it," explained the man, who was still hidden in shadows. "I also have good news."

"What is it?" said the woman hoarsely.

"I have begun gathering followers. Though you are very capable, the purging of the magical world is not a task left to one, or even two, alone."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, very good. What about the next phase of the plan? I know that there is one more betrayer whom I would like punished."

"I already have a few things set in motion. He will first be sent a message, and then we will force him to go where we want him to," he said. He then looked hesitant before speaking again. "I have a question."

"Yes?" she asked wearily.

"When do we go after Potter?"

She sighed. "Our goals are clear to me. We are going to shake up the magical world. There is too much chaos, and the blood of this world has become tainted. Causing the magical world to become a bit unsettled once more will cause Harry Potter, leader of the aurors, to become on edge. His attention will have to spread, as he will have to try and keep his world safe. Once his attention has shifted, we will then go after those whom he holds most dear. I already know how to get to them," she explained.

"He has children at Hogwarts though," said the man.

"Yes, and soon, I will also have someone at Hogwarts. Do not think me dumb, Nightstar."

"No, never, Madame LeStrange


	3. The Prince And The Progeny

**Author's Note: ** Thanks for all the reviews, make sure to keep them coming in. They make me happy. There's going to be a bit of action in this chapter. Enjoy!

Malfoy Manor was a menacing old house sitting high atop a hill. Its large gates were located off of a narrow lane. The old manor had extensive grounds and gave off the appearance of a haunted house. Though the house was always occupied by someone, whether it be a person or a house elf, it still gave off the eerie feeling that no one inhabited it as there was scarcely anything "homey" in the residence. Here, you would find no laughter, no happiness; the only thing that let people know that a family ever lived here was a painting of a platinum blonde haired man along with his wife and child hanging high above the mantle.

Draco Malfoy sat in the study, a book lying open on the desk in front of him. The large leather bound brown book was not the man's focus though. His cold gray eyes and pointed face stared at the fire in the room. He watched the flames dance and listened intently as they crackled.

"Sir" came a squeaky voice, "Dinner is ready to be served," said the house elf.

Draco broke his gaze and turned to see his elf, Ding, standing before him, clothed in what appeared to be a pillow case with patches of whatever fabric could be found sewn in. "Thank you very much, Ding." Draco said. The elf nodded and with the faintest of pops, he vanished.

Draco closed the book and walked over to the large bookshelf that adorned one full wall of the room. He placed it on the shelf in some arbitrary place before heading down the hall, intent on eating dinner. He sighed, as he knew he would be alone; again. His son Scorpius was off at Hogwarts and his wife, Evelyn, was in France for the week.

Draco sat down at the head of the oak table. The dim room was lit by a few candles scattered about. He looked at the food Ding had prepared, and his mouth watered. There was roast beef and mashed potatoes, along with desert, and some elf made wine that Draco loved. No sooner had he picked up his fork to begin serving himself, the sound of a very loud knocking came. He tried to ignore it, as he had not invited anyone to his home, and he very rarely had guests. However, soon the knocking had grown louder, and much to his dismay, his food was growing colder. Instead of asking Ding to get it, he opted to answer it himself; already choosing some harsh words for whomever it was that was disturbing his dinner.

As he approached the large oak front doors, he began to yell. "Who is it!?" He called, yet the knocking only continued. He gritted his teeth as he got to the front door. He pulled it back a bit, only intending to shoo the person from the door. What happened next surprised him greatly.

No sooner had he opened the door a bit, he felt it and himself being blasted. The door rocked, almost being blown off of its hinges while Draco himself was thrown back several feet, sliding across the floor and slamming into one of the armchairs. He looked up and only saw the silhouette of a figure, presumably a woman outlined in his doorway. Instantly, he pulled his wand from his robes.

"Draco," said the woman's voice, "it's been so long," she said as she stepped fully into the house.

The woman standing before him looked like someone he had not seen in many years. He was sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was not her though. Her nose was thin. She had a thin mouth and dark heavily lidded eyes. Her skin was clear and the complexion of a pale olive. Her hair was jet black and coarse, yet sleek. She had a long scar that ran from her left ear to the side of her mouth. The wound appeared to be quite old, yet still very noticeable.

"Who in the bloody hell are you?" asked Draco, getting to his feet and keeping his wand pointed at the woman in front of him.

"Don't you recognize me Draco? It's me, Aunty Bella," she said. Her wand was hanging in her hand as though she did not need it.

"You're not her," said Draco. He looked the woman up and down once more, and peered out behind her, noticing that she was alone.

"You're right," said the woman. She placed the wand back inside her robes and pulled out a small dagger with a ruby in the handle and began cleaning her nails as though uninterested. "But, I am the next best thing Draco. I'm your cousin Vespa. It's a pleasure to be formally introduced."

"She didn't have any children," said Draco.

"Dear, if you survive this night, please be sure to get your eyes checked. I assure you Draco, that I am the daughter of Bellatrix LeStrange. No one knew, except for her and my father. But, now is not the time to reminisce. I have come here for a reason," she explained. She stopped picking at her nails with the dagger and with just a flick of her wrist, threw it at Draco. He did not move, as it whizzed past his face. He looked up at her, a thin line of sweat appearing on his forehead. "Don't worry, I meant to miss," she explained.

"What the hell did you come here for?" he asked.

She stared at him, focusing her cold eyes on his. There was an emptiness in her eyes that was never in his. This was a look that she shared with her mother. "I came here for your trial of course."

"What trial?" he asked, looking at her quizzically.

"You're trial, Draco," she said. She opened her hands as though reading from some roll of parchment. "Draco Malfoy, you're accused of High Treason. You and your family betrayed the Dark Lord, and it is time you paid for it."

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about?" he asked, still keeping his wand pointed at her.

"Draco, I do not repeat myself," she said in a new, deadly tone. "With your parents both gone, it is time you paid for your crimes."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the mention of his parents. "What do you know about my parents, Vespa?" His tone had become deadly and full of malice.

"Well, let's reexamine what happened to them. Your father was murdered of course. I know for a fact that the wrong man was taken into custody for his murder though. I killed him myself," she said.

"You're lying," he said.

"I could be, or I could be telling the truth. You may never know. Now, let's look at your mother. She may as well have killed the Dark Lord with her own wand. She let Potter get up after lying and pretending he was dead. That traitorous, lying,-"

Silver sparks flew from the end of Draco's wand.

"Sorry. However, let's look at her death as well. A heart attack, killing a witch of perfectly fine health and age. Who has ever heard of such a thing?" She looked at Draco, noticing that his eyes had changed. She was beginning to make him think. "Now Draco, I believe that it is your turn to pay the price."

"I will do no such thing," he growled. "And if I should find that you had anything to do with my parents death, I'll kill you myself with my bare hands."

"Draco, you will never get the chance," she said.

The tone of her voice signified that the time for talking was over. Though he knew that a fight was abound, he hesitated to strike first, instead trying to weave out her strategy. He needed to know how powerful she was before attacking.

The woman twirled her wand around in her hand as though it was some sort of play thing, all the while keeping her eyes focused intently on Draco. He stared back, not daring to blink and break the stare.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," boomed Draco, pointing his wand straight at the woman. She jumped and seemed to hover in the air for just a moment as the curse hit an old clock, which burst into flames. The burning pieces fell to the floor, catching the rug on fire too.

"Draco, I grow weary of this," she said. She cast a quick water charm to put the fire out.

"Scared?" he taunted.

"Bored," she returned. "Let me show you how a real witch duels."

She stopped playing with her wand and held it tightly in her hand. A crazed look had come across her face, and if it was possible, her eyes seemed to grow darker. She pointed her wand at him and smiled. It looked as though she was in pain to show the smile.

"Crucio," she muttered, pointing at the man. He blocked the spell and quickly returned with a stunner. She laughed a high pitched laugh.

"Draco, you have been out of Hogwarts for many years; the time for stunning spells is over," she said. She began to fire off a multitude of spells. Beams of light from a rainbow of colors began to shoot off at Draco. He quickly ducked, dodged, or shielded himself from them. Sweat formed on his forehead as he looked at her.

_She's enjoying this_, he thought. He could also tell that she was holding back. He decided that hitting her with a spell was not going to be easy, so he decided to change his tactics.

"Reducto," he shouted at the ceiling above her. The spell hit its target, as much of the second floor above her crashed to the floor. He had not seen where she was, or if the debris had landed on its target. He refused to get within a few feet, in case she was still conscious.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he said as he began to levitate pieces of the debris. He reached the bottom of the pile, only to have his heart sink when she was not there. He heard movement behind him and almost turned around when he heard it, but her words stopped him.

"If you turn around, I will kill you," and there was a deadliness in her voice that let him know she was serious.

"Kill me then," he said. He wanted to see if she would do it.

"Draco, if I wanted you dead, I would have blasted you into oblivion through the front door. I just want to have a little fun. Crucio!."

She began to giggle like a school girl as she lifted the man high into the air. He screamed and writhed in agony beyond any he had ever felt. All parts of his body began to ache, from his bones to his skin, even his hair felt pain. When he finally felt as though he might lose consciousness from the pain, she relented.

"Draco," she said. The man paid her no attention, instead checking himself for wounds though he knew he had none. "Draco!" she yelled. Still he paid her no mind. She flicked her wand and the man was turned around and dangling in the air, his toes barely touching the ground. "I knew I would get your attention."

"You bitch," he said. "If I ever get my hands on you, I swear, I'll kill you."

She seemed not to notice what he had said. "I was going to send my servant here. You would not have seen him though. Your house just would have been burned to the ground. I wanted to stop by and have a chat though."

She dropped the man hard to the ground. "Watch this," she said.

All at once, it seemed to happen. If Draco blinked, he would have missed it. She did some quick wand motion, making the shape of a pentagram in the air. However, there was not just a wand motion. The pentagram stayed in the air, its outline glowing crimson.

"What the hell is that?" asked Draco, now fascinated at the star began to fill with white light. It glowed brighter and brighter.

"It is ancient magic," was all she had to offer him in explination. "Watch."

The pentagram glowed ever brighter, and when it glowed with a white light, it began to spin. It began slowly, and then got faster. "Finite Incantatem," she said, pointing her wand at it. "Stupefy," she cried, pointing at him. "You may be able to see the complete spell when it's finished, dear cousin," she said to his limp body. "Now, the fun can really begin."

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Harry Potter stepped back into his office, much more confused than when he had left. On his way back to the office, he asked Kingsley to hold off on telling the Daily Prophet. He knew what hearing that the Dark Mark had been summoned could do. It would put people into a sense of panic, and this was the last thing he wanted. He especially did not want this, as they had no leads, and for all he or anyone else knew, it could be a prank.

He sat back in his chair, placing his hands on the back of his head and sighed. In the beginning, this job had not been an easy one. With Voldemort having countless spies in the Ministry of Magic at the time, weeding them out was hard. Many people had been sentenced to time in Azkaban, and when the trials were done, most of the offices in the Ministry had been left vacant. Harry had already been working in the Ministry for some time by then, and when it came time for a new Head Auror to be appointed, Harry was chosen, and soon he was leading the entire office.

He was snapped from his thoughts by another knock on his door. "Come in," he called. The door opened and Harry's secretary, Charity walked in.

"Mr. Potter, there's-"

"Charity," he interrupted, "How long have you been working for me?"

"A little over a year," he said.

"And what was the first thing I said to you?" he asked.

She smiled a little and blushed. "You said that I should call you Harry because above all else, you want to be my friend," she said.

"Thank you," he smiled. "Now, what did you have to say?"

"Well, Harry, the Minister sent down a note," she explained.

"What did it say?" he asked, though he already had a clue as to what Kingsley wanted.

"It just says that he wants you to investigate what you two looked at earlier. He also said that you should start with the most familiar suspect. I don't know what it means, but I'm sure you do," she stated.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Looks like I'll be taking another trip out of the office today."

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"Ennervate," whispered Vespa, pointing her wand at Draco.

The man felt himself wake. He looked around wildly, only seeing Vespa standing before him. He was in his house still. He tried to stand, yet he could not move. He looked down at his body and saw ropes tying him to one of his chairs. He was also gagged.

"Draco, how are you feeling?" she asked. He tried to talk, only managing to mumble. If he was not gagged, she would have gotten a mouth full of curses, and not the kind that are spells.

"Draco dear, please speak up," she taunted. She removed the gag from his mouth.

"You bitch!" he shouted.

"Draco please, watch your language. Though your mother was a traitor, I know she raised you to speak to a lady a certain way."

"Lady? You?"

"Draco, I will be leaving soon. Do not worry yourself though, this will not be the last time you see me," she said, leaning in to the man's face so their noses almost touched.

"You're off the deep end, just like your mother was," Draco taunted.

Vespa glared at him menacingly. She placed her hands on the side of his face and began to caress it, then without warning, she scratched him, leaving three very deep gashes on the side of his face. Draco yelled just a little. He quickly quieted himself, not wanting to give him the pleasure of knowing it had hurt. Blood was flowing freely from the wounds, dripping onto his shoulder.

"Like my mother, Draco?" she said, and the crazed look had returned to her eyes. "Well the apple never falls too far from the tree. So, let's see what Scorpius is like."

"If you touch my son, I'll kill you," he said in a deadly quiet tone.

"You'll kill me?" she laughed a long hollow laugh, almost devoid of emotions. "You couldn't even kill Dumbledore. The world knows that the Malfoy family is nothing more than a bunch of bullies who can only fight when the odds are twenty to one in their favor."

"If you're going to kill me, then do it already," Draco said.

"Draco, I'm not going to kill you tonight. Someone always has to live to tell the tale, and for this reason and no other, you will survive the night. Well, if you can survive the fire that is," she said. She pulled out her wand and mumbled something. She began to write in mid air. The letters were bright, and made from fire. When she was done, she had spelled out the word TRAITOR in burning letters. The word hung in the air.

"Remember who you are, Draco Malfoy," was all she said before flicking her wand. The words zoomed onto the far wall, making it catch fire instantly. She smiled a wicked smile at him before bowing and apparating away.

Draco could do nothing more than watch as the fire began to consume the entire wall.

"DING! DING! COME HERE NOW!!!" He yelled. The elf did not respond. _She must have killed him_, he thought. Smoke began to pour from the walls and as it filled the room, Draco began to inhale it. He coughed violently. Struggling in the chair was of no use. The robes were magically tied, and as his wand was discarded on the floor, he had no way to release himself.

The realization that he was about to die was not a very welcome one for Draco. He sat in the chair, coughing and feeling the black smoke fill his lungs. He wanted someone to come and save him. Anyone. He coughed even more as he began to lose consciousness. He looked up at the front door and saw yet another figure standing there. His head dropped to his chest and he knew no more.


	4. Empty Places

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews. They keep me going. I'll be sure to reply to your reviews. Keep sending them.

"How is the hell did you get yourself tied to a chair, Malfoy?" came the voice of Harry Potter. He had just moved the unconscious body of Draco Malfoy from his burning home and had put the fire out.

"It's none of your business, Potter," coughed Malfoy, using his wand to summon a glass of water. He drank it down quickly and coughed a bit more. "I need to get to St. Mungo's to have this cough checked out.

"It's smoke inhalation. Your house was filled with smoke from the fire that was there. You know, the one you don't want to tell me about," said Harry.

"It's none of your business," Malfoy repeated.

"Draco Malfoy," said Harry in a tone showcasing the fact his patience was wearing thin, "I am Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I am ordering you tell me what happened here or face criminal charges."

"You haven't stopped being dramatic, I see," commented Draco. He rolled his eyes. "Well if you must know, I was sitting down to dinner and when someone knocked at the door."

"Malfoy," growled Harry. "Get to the important stuff."

Harry listened with baited breath as Malfoy recounted the tale. He held all his questions till the end, though he did have to force Malfoy to continue at points where he did not want to tell what happened.

"What was this woman's name?" Harry asked.

"Vespa," said Malfoy simply.

"I've never heard of her. What's her last name?" he asked.

"You're not going to believe me if I tell you," Draco responded.

Harry sighed. "Try me."

"Her name, according to her is Vespa LeStrange," said Draco, holding up a hand to stop Harry from interrupting. "She is claiming to be the daughter of my Aunt Bella. She didn't say who her father was, but I think she's the real thing, Potter. She looks just like her, and she's a little bite more crazy."

Harry looked thoughtful. "I'm going to need you to come in and give a testimony of this."

"No," Draco said simply.

"Don't worry; unless this becomes bigger, the only people that will have access to the file are me and the Minister himself. The Prophet doesn't have to know about a fire on a private residence either. You'll just have to repeat everything you told me. Is that alright?" Harry asked, though the tone in his voice let Malfoy know that he was telling him what to do.

"Fine," Draco said. "Can I go now?" He stood up, preparing to appparate.

"Hold on," Harry said, standing as well. "I'm going to need some more information about this woman."

"How did she start the fire?" asked Harry.

"She used her wand to spell out something in fire. She said I should remember it."

"What word was it?" asked Harry, now becoming more intrigued.

"She spelled out the word traitor," he responded.

"Damn," mumbled Harry. "Why did she let you live?"

Draco glared at Harry after he asked this question. "She said that someone had to live to tell the tale. She also said she'd be seeing me later," Draco said.

"Well, thanks for all this information, Malfoy. Make sure you get yourself to St. Mungo's. I'll owl you and let you know when you need to come into the Ministry."

"Yeah, whatever," mumbled Draco, wincing as he touched the wound on his face. "Oh and Potter, you'd best be careful around this one. She used some spell I've never seen before, and I don't think she quite finished it."

"Well, thanks for the heads up, Malfoy. And by the way, I don't want you trying to get revenge against this woman. The Ministry will be investigating, and I'll be heading them up," Harry said. He looked at the man seriously. He nodded to him, and Draco did the same. After walking a small way from Draco, Harry heard a small pop and turned to see that Malfoy had vanished. He followed suit and did the same.

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"We really lucked out today, didn't we?" Albus mused as he stood outside next to Rose and Jonathan. "First class on our second day, and we're learning how to fly."

"Yeah, well you're probably going to be a natural," Rose commented. "You mum did play for a professional team, and I heard your dad was the best seeker Gryffindor had." A pained expression came across her face. "I don't think I'll be very good at it though," she sighed.

"Here comes Madam Hooch," Jonathan said. He stopped playing with his bottle cap necklace and placed it back on his neck. He stared at the woman, glancing up at her yellow hawk like eyes and short cut gray hair. She glared at the students menacingly.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she said. "Everyone step up and stand next to a broom."

The first years took this command and moved up quickly to stand next to a broomstick that was lying flat on the grass.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, in a loud clear voice, I want you all to say the word up while holding your hand over the broomstick. Remember, you are commanding the broom to come to you, so make sure your voice is forceful," she explained. She looked around one time to make sure that they all understood. She blew her whistle loudly.

"Up," said Albus in a loud voice. The broom stick flew into his hands with much force. He held it there, staring at it in amazement that he had done it correctly on the first time. He turned to Jonathan who's broom had done the same after a few tries. They then turned their attention to Rose who's broom had done nothing more than wiggle a little bit.

After a few minutes more, everyone's broom had staggered into the hands of the person using it. Madam Hooch then began to direct everyone as to what to do next. "Now, I want you to mount your brooms. You will then kick off hard from the ground and hover a few feet above the ground for just about a minute. Then I want you all to let yourselves down very gently back to the ground. Understood?"

The children all nodded in agreement as they began to mount their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and they all kicked off hard from the ground.

The movement of the broom scared Albus just for the tiniest of moments. It seemed to anticipate his movements, though he was not moving more than a few inches to the left or the right. He looked down, noticing that he was about 7 or 8 feet in the air. Not everyone was as high as him though. About a foot below was Jonathan, and below them both was Rose. It was quite a sight, watching her try to keep herself hovering. She would kick off from the ground _very hard_, and she would be fine for a few moments. However, as soon as she tried to stay in the air, the broom would slam back down into the ground with a little thud.

"Now, I want you all to come back down. To come back down, all you have to do is put a little bit more weight onto the broom and lean backwards just a little bit. If you lean too much, you'll fall," she explained.

Albus was saddened a little by the prospect of coming down, but he decided to comply. Others had already come down to the ground and Madam Hooch's yellow eyes were gazing at those who had not yet done so. Albus leaned back a little and began to feel himself heading towards the ground. However, he soon felt he was going to fall off and leaned forward.

No sooner had he done this, he knew it was a mistake. His broom whizzed forward and he could do nothing more than lean in as he sped up. He could hear Madam Hooch's whistle, yet he could do nothing about it. He had not been told how to stop a broomstick. He learned backwards and the broom began to slow down. He leaned a bit more backwards and the broom came to a complete stop. He turned around and saw Madam Hooch zooming towards him. He gulped a bit, and began to pale. He knew he was in trouble.

"Potter!" she yelled. "What would possess you to try and pull a stunt like that on your first day on a broom?

"I…it….I didn't mean to. I felt like I was gonna fall off so I leaned forward and I zoomed ahead."

"Well, next time, be more careful," she said as the two slowly began to make their way back to the crowd of students. "You know, you might make a decent Chaser one day if you practice enough."

Albus looked up at the woman as she smirked at him. He smiled back at her.

The class soon broke and the queue of Gryffindors all headed towards the next class of the day which was Transfiguration. Albus had been very excited for this class. He had seen his mother use Transfiguration spells at many occasions, especially when he was a child. She would create toys for him and Lily to play with.

They entered the Transfiguration classroom and took three seats in the front row. The Hufflepuffs did the same. They waited a few moments for the professor to arrive. However, the time for the class to start had come and gone, and still no sign of the teacher.

"Look," said Rose. She was talking to Jonathan and Albus, but the entire class turned their heads to where her finger was pointing.

A chess set was moving by itself. The small pieces seemed to be moving by themselves with no bit of prodding. As the students continued to watch, the pieces continued to play by themselves, removing themselves from the board as they were eliminated. In the end, black was the winner. The pieces all moved themselves back onto the board, setting themselves up for another game.

"Transfiguration," came a voice from behind the desk, "is the art of making one thing turn into something else. It can make the inanimate move, and the animate turn into statues." A small white light glowed for just an instant and a man appeared.

The man appeared to be in his early forties. Crow's feet played at the corners of his tired looking eyes. They shone with a deep brown sorrow. Despite the sadness in his eyes, he was smiling quite broadly. He was wearing dark gray robes, and a hat to match. From under the brim of the hat, graying black hair could be seen.

"I am Professor Hewlett," he announced. "Can anyone guess what kind of charm I have placed on these chess pieces?" Albus and Rose both raised their hands quickly.

"You," Professor Hewlett said, pointing to Albus. Rose put her hand down looking defeated.

"I think you used a Locomotor's Charm on it. It makes objects move, and its one of the simplest charms."

"You are correct," the Professor agreed. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, charms are another class all together. The reason that these pieces are so great is that they were not always chess pieces. In fact, they were not always inanimate objects." He mumbled something very quickly and the class was amazed as the chess pieces changed quickly into little black and white mice. Professor Hewlett quickly gathered the mice up and put them into a cage.

"Transfiguration is complex and dangerous magic. Messing up in this class is permitted, no one expects you to be perfect," he said in a serious tone. "Messing around will not be tolerated. When you step into this classroom, be ready to learn." He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. "Now, it's the first day, and I'd really hate to weigh you all down with a lot of homework. Today you will have one simple assignment. You must come back to class with the name of the transfiguration I used, as well as the spell I used to do it."

For the remaining time of the class, they had to copy down a syllabus from the board. When they were done with this, Professor Hewlett went into more depth about what they would be studying. The class ended and the hungry trio headed towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"I wonder how long it'll be before Uncle Harry writes back," said Rose.

"No long, I hope," said Albus.

"Don't worry about it, he's reliable," she said. She turned to Jonathan who was reading a magazine, though it was unclear to Rose how he was doing so. "Jonathan, don't you think you should turn the magazine right side up so you can read it?"

Jonathan looked up from the magazine and stared at Rose as though she had just said the most peculiar thing he had ever heard. "No, I'm quite fine, thank you very much," he said.

"What are you reading?" asked Albus after taking a sip from his goblet.

"My grandfather publishes it. It's The Quibbler," he said. "Did you know that the Ministry of Magic is actually a storage place for Muggle gold? The Minister keeps it just in case the muggles should ever find out about magic again. He can pay them to keep it quiet," Jonathan explained.

Both Rose and Albus stared at their friend quizzically. Soon lunch ended and the Gryffindors headed for their final class of the day; Defense Against The Dark Arts. They made their way to the classroom without much happening. They passed Scorpius in the hall who nodded to both of them before hurrying along to catch up with his Slytherin friends.

Professor McCuliber was leaning on her desk when the students came in. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws came in and took seats. She looked at the students, allowing her eyes to gaze lazily around the room. Albus noticed that the room had some faint smell; he could not pinpoint what it was but he remembered it from home. He was snapped from his thought by the sound of Professor McCuliber talking.

"Defense Against The Dark Arts is one of the most powerful branches of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. It is also one of the most complicated. In this class, you will be expected to meet your greatest fears face to face and conquer them. You will learn about dark creatures, and even meet a few. You will learn spells to help you defend yourself if the need should ever arise. Now, I'd like you all to copy the class outline from the board. If you all do it quickly enough, we may have time to start on our first spell," she said. She tapped the board with her wand and the course outline appeared.

The students copied down the work quickly, anticipating learning a new spell. Professor McCuliber was delighted

She smiled. "Now, you're not supposed to be learning this until your second year. But it's a rather simple spell and it's very useful. This is called the Disarming Spell. The wand movement is very simple, as there is none. You can just have your wand pointed at the person and say the words, and the spell will have the same effect as if you have waved it a bit more. Now, the incantation is simple. Expelliarmus. I want you all to repeat it."

The class did so, and she continued.

"Now, as much as I'd like you all to be able to perform the spell here in class, I fear that there is just not enough time. For homework, I'd like you all to practice the spell. However, you are not to practice it on one another, and if I should get word that a single first year has performed the spell outside of this classroom, you will become very acquainted with detention. Am I making myself clear?" The students nodded in agreement. She opened her mouth to speak when a hand went up in the back.

"Yes, Ms. Sullivan?"

"I was wondering, if you could show us the spell," the girl said.

"I would be able to show you the spell," said Professor McCuliber. "However, I have no one to practice it on. Yes, I know many of you would like to volunteer," and indeed she was correct. Many hands had gone up when she said this. "However, I am much more powerful than you all. The more powerful the caster, the more powerful the spell. One of you could point your wands at me and say the spell and my wand would do a little more than jerk around in my hand. However, if I were to cast the spell on one of you…well…let's just say that I'd do more than just disarm you." She paused for a moment before continuing. "We were due to have a special guest speaker come and talk to the class today, but due to unforeseen circumstances, it had to be rescheduled."

She continued to talk about different things they would learn about during the course of the school yeah. She made it sound quite interesting. Class soon ended and the Gryffindors and Ravelclaws alike all headed to their common rooms to drop off their bags. It was a beautiful day outside and they wanted to enjoy it.

000000000

It was much later in the evening. The sun was no longer out and the moon was just beginning to peak its head over the horizon. With a small pop, a man appeared just outside one of the larger houses on the block. He walked through the gate and up the front steps. No sooner had he opened the front door, he wished he had something to keep him at work a little longer.

"Harry James Potter!" his wife bellowed.

He entered the house fully and closed the door. Walking into the kitchen, he saw his wife sitting at the dinner table. He bent down a little, kissing her on the forehead.

"Hello dear," he said calmly.

"Don't you hello dear me," she said. She was showcasing the trademark Weasley temper. "I cannot believe you."

"What did I do?" he asked, sitting down picking up a fork. She had left his plate out.

"I cannot believe you didn't tell Albus anything about you or your life before he went to Hogwarts."

Harry began to pale. "Dear, I was planning on telling him. But I didn't know how he would take it. You know how emotional he can be sometimes."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, you know what he's like. He is more like his father than any of our children, and he sounded so hurt in his letter. You know how much you hated it when secrets were kept from you when you were his age, and now you want to go ahead and do the same?"

Harry swallowed hard. Ginny knew how to lay the guilt on thick. "You're right. I have to go to Hogwarts soon to talk to the first years. I'll take the opportunity to talk to him them. Alright?"

"Yes," she smiled at him, rubbing his thigh. "Lily's not here. She's gone over to my parent's house."

Harry gazed at his wife, seeing the devilish look in her eyes. He finished his plate and his drink. "So, does this mean we have the house all to ourselves?"

"Yes it does, Mr. Potter," she said. "How was work?"

"It was…work…to say the least," He said. He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair.

Ginny picked up his dishes and took them to the sink, preparing to wash them. "What happened?"

"Gin, you know I'm not supposed to discuss Ministry business with anyone outside of the Ministry," said Harry in a mocking tone.

"Harry, you know that as your wife, you're honor bound to tell me everything," she said in a serenely sweet tone, sounding very Umbridge-like.

"Well dear," he began, "and I don't want you to get excited about anything I'm going to say, but something is happening."

"Something like what?" she asked, not turning to him as she continued to wash the dishes.

"To sum it all up in a nut shell, someone broke into Severus' home and left a sign. Then that same someone also attacked Draco Malfoy and almost killed him, and from what I hear, she's incredibly powerful," he explained.

"She?" asked Ginny, turning to him, now very interested.

"Yes," he said. "She goes by the name of Vespa LeStrange."

His wife's eyes bulged at the sound of the name. "LeStrange? Oh, Harry, it can't be. All the LeStrange's are dead and gone."

"Well, according to her, she's Bella's daughter. I'm not so keen to believe it though."

"Why not Harry? If she was able to almost kill Draco Malfoy and leave some sort of sign, why don't you want to believe it?"

He stared at his wife, peering into her deep eyes. "Because Gin," he began, "If I believe that this woman is who she claims to be…it's beginning again."


	5. Lies My Parents Told Me

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all the people who keep reviewing. They mean a lot to me. I had to up the rating of the story because of the violence in the beginning of this chapter.

Anton Radford Nightstar was an exceptionally handsome man. He had a very strong facial structure and cold piercing blue eyes. His jet black hair was always neat and cut with precision. Though he was in his mid thirties, he appeared to be much younger. He was muscular, but not overly so. He had broken many a heart during his Hogwarts years, and when he needed to, he could easily use his charm and good looks to get by. However, this was rarely the case, as he was an exceptionally powerful and well accomplished wizard.

It was just about 10 o'clock at night. He apparated into a small Muggle neighborhood with a quiet pop. He looked around, smiling to himself. There was no one on the streets, and peering into windows, he saw only the dim glow of television sets. He had been told by his master that he would be allowed to have a little fun, and this is what he had chosen to do.

Walking up the street, he looked around, trying to notice anything out of the ordinary. He knew that no one with magic lived on the street, but you can never be too sure when it comes to people with magic.

He stopped in front of one of the smaller houses on the street. He knocked on the door gently and smiled to himself._ I'm going to enjoy this_, he thought to himself. He knocked once more, and this time someone opened the door. A girl appearing to be no more than 17 years old opened the door a little. Nightstar smiled at her, and she opened the door fully.

"Can I help you?" she asked. She stared at his eyes, becoming lost in them. She then gave him a quick once over look, apparently liking what she had seen, evidenced by the smirk that was now on her face.

He smiled at her once more. "Are your parent's home?" he asked kindly.

"Yes," she said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Anton…Anton Nightstar. I'd like to come in for a bit," he said.

"Anton Nightstar? I don't think they were expecting you. As a matter of fact," she looked puzzled, "I don't think they know anyone named Nightstar," she said.

Nightstar sighed. This girl did not appear to be the brightest. He was trying to keep calm, but his patience was wearing thin. "Look, I just have to talk to them about something urgent. It's very important."

"Um…Let me go ask my mum," she said. She attempted to close the door, but Nightstar quickly put his hand on it and kept it open. "Excuse me," she said, and this time there was a bit of panic in the girl's voice.

"I was hoping not to have to do this," he said. He reached into his robes with his free hand and pulled out his wand. "Step inside the house, and take me to your parents," he said.

The girl looked at him like he was crazy. She stared at the wand in his hand and looked up at his cold eyes. "You're threatening me…with a stick? You're off your rocker. I'm calling the cops. You're crazy," she said.

Nightstar sighed once more. He mumbled something and a jet of green light rushed to the girl. She dropped to the floor with a little thud. He stepped over her body and pulled it inside. Closing the door as he entered, he surveyed the room. There was no one there. He turned around, preparing to go upstairs when he was met with the sound of a glass breaking. He turned to see where it had come from.

A woman, whom he was assuming was the girl's mother, was at the top of the stair case. She screamed loudly. "What have you done to my daughter?" she screamed. She rushed down the stairs, stepping in the broken glass but continuing on. "Christopher! Phillip! Come quick!" She screamed again, pushing Nightstar back from her daughter's body. "What have you done?" she screamed over and over again. He watched as the woman held her daughter, trying everything in her power to revive her. _Stupid woman,_ he thought.

"Yes, what have I done?" said Nightstar, sounding very amused as two more people appeared at the top of the stair. A man and a boy who looked very much alike rushed down the stairs, almost tripping as they came. The boy had a baseball bat in his hand, and the father was carrying a hammer.

"Who are you?" yelled the older man, pointing the hammer at Nightstar. He went to swing it but was blasted back to the staircase by a spell. He was not unconscious. He grabbed at his chest. His wife and son rushed to his side. "Are you alright?" asked his son.

"I'm fine," his father replied. "What did you do to my daughter?" he yelled.

Nightstar smiled at the man, though it looked much more menacing than a smile should. "I killed her, you idiot," he said simply.

The mother began to sob even harder. Her tears dropped onto her young son's hair. She was clutching onto the boy so tightly as though she could hold his life in his body. _No, _thought Nightstar. _No one will live tonight_.

"You son of a bitch," said the father. He held up his hammer, preparing to throw it.

"Ah," said Nightstar. He flicked his fingers a little and the hammer flew into his hand. He examined it as though he had never seen it before. "You Muggles… and your primitive weapons. You may as well be throwing rocks at me," he said.

"Muggles? What in the bloody hell are you talking about? You break into my house and murder my daughter and ramble on about nonsense."

"I did not break into your house," said Nightstar. "Your idiot of a daughter let me in. I did not murder her, I carried out her sentence. You Muggles have no right to even breathe the same air as me. If I was not in the mood for fun, you'd all be dead by now."

"Please," sobbed the mother. "Please, just leave us alone." Her tears cascaded down her face. "Please just go. I promise that if you just go, we won't call the authorities. We'll leave you be."

Nightstar began to laugh maniacally, sounding like a mad man. "Leave me be? You stupid woman, you're authorities could do nothing to me, even if they wanted to. You will never have the chance to tell them. I believe it's time to have some fun."

Nightstar flicked his wand once more and the three members of the family were sent into the living room. He cast a Body Bind on all three of them. He moved the boy, who appeared to be only about 13 years old to the couch.

"I want you to have a good view of this boy," he said. He knew that if the boy could move, he would try to run or yell for help, but for now, all he could do was allow tears run down his solid face.

"Crucio," Nightstar whispered. He pointed the wand at the mother. She screamed in pain. Her body began to twist and writhe in agony as her face contorted in unimaginable positions. He released the spell.

"Do you see?" Nightstar asked, turning to the boy. "This will soon be you, you filthy Muggle. You're mother has gotten on my nerves the worst tonight, and she will pay the price. You must watch though. You need to see what will soon happen to you." He turned to the father. "I have something special in mind for you," he said.

He flicked his wand and a knife zoomed from the kitchen. He held it in his hand and looked around. He played with it, throwing it up in the air and catching it.

Nightstar threw the man on the floor roughly. He cut the man's shirt open, exposing his bare chest. Nightstar held the knife high over his head and came down swift. The man's wife yelled a little, just before Nightstar stopped, just an inch above the man's chest.

"No," he said quietly. "I have to _play_ with my food before I eat it," he said. He took the knife and began to carve into the man's chest. He knew that if he could, the man would scream, but he could not. He looked up, staring at the young boy and noticing that he had stopped crying. "Yes," said Nightstar. "I was hoping you'd reach this point. You're mind is almost broken. You can't look for much longer. Do not worry child, it will soon be your time."

Nightstar continued to carve into the man's chest, and when he was done, he had carved a pentagram into his chest. "You know what's next," he said. He took the knife and held it high. Coming down quickly, he stabbed straight through the center of the pentagram, and through the man's heart. His eyes bulged just a little as life left his body.

Nightstar stood and laughed loudly. He was enjoying himself more than any of them knew. "Yes, now your turn," he said, turning to the mother. She continued to cry, trying to back herself away.

"Please," she cried. "I don't want to die. Just leave me and my son alone. I promise not to tell anyone…please," she pleaded. "Why…why are you doing this?" She was on her knees when something inside her seemed to have snapped. She launched herself at Nightstar, brandishing her finely manicured nails like claws. She scratched at him, trying to reach his face but he held both of her hands. She tried kicking him, but reached only places that didn't cause much pain.

"Woman," he said in a serious tone as he threw her down to the ground.. "I need not give a reason. You do not deserve one, but just know that your death will not be the last. By the time this great conflict is done, many a Muggle will have joined you. Crucio."

The woman continued to scream. Nightstar continued to torture the woman. He would let the spell go on for 10 minutes straight, and then he would stop. Just as the woman thought she would have enough time to recover, he would continue. The torture would continue on for 2 more hours. In the end, the woman stopped crying. She was not dead, but her spirit and mind had both been broken. She stared wildly around the room, and Nightstar looked at her eyes, noticing that they had grown colder and wilder than ever.

"Levicorpus," he said. The woman was lifted into the air upside down, and she had not even bothered to make a sound. "Goodbye," he said. He swung hard with his wand and slammed the woman hard into a china cabinet. Her body seemed to shake as it collided with the case, shattering the glass covering it, and cutting her deeply at the same time. Blood poured from her wounds as her once white nightgown seemed to take on the color of blood. He then slammed her to the other side of the room; however there was no wall to stop her. The woman went crashing through the window, breaking it in the process and landing with a hard crash and thud on a car just outside. She did not scream.

Nightstar turned to the boy. He smiled at him. "I will spare you, fore you have suffered enough here tonight. You have actually endured more pain than that of your parents. Death is welcome to you boy." He killed the boy quickly with a jet of green light. He stood straight up and stretched. He was ready to leave now. He had enough fun for the night. He prepared to apparate when he heard a noise coming from upstairs. He marched up the stairs quickly and quietly, hoping that he was not just hearing a cat.

"Reducto," he muttered, blasting the door to pieces and entering the room the noise was coming from. He smiled as he entered, noticing where the sound was coming from. He leaned over the edge of the crib, seeing the baby sleeping. It began to cry as Nightstar looked in. "Do not worry child. I will allow you to join your family."

Nightstar stepped back. "Reducto," he said, pointing at the crib, which exploded into many pieces. He laughed a long hollow laugh, which seemed to continue on after he had apparated away.

0000000000000

Friday morning found the trio of Albus, Jonathan, and Rose sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Albus was enjoying bacon and toast with jam. Rose and Jonathan were quietly discussing something in hushed voices.

"I can't wait for Defense today," said Albus in between bites. "Today the guest speaker is coming."

"I wonder who it'll be," said Rose. "Professor McCuliber hasn't really given us any clues."

"I think it'll be a vampire," said Jonathan nonchalantly. "You know that they're under the Ministry's control, but they don't want to let anyone know about it."

"Look, it's the morning post," said Albus, pointing to a flurry of owls that had come in through the window.

The rush of owls of many colors swooped down through the window, each flying to the person to whom the parcel they were carrying had been addressed. Albus' owl, Hedwig, was easy enough to spot. Her grey and white feathers shone brighter than the other owls. She swooped down, landing on Albus' shoulder. Albus reached up and took the letter she had been carrying.

"It's from my mum," he said excitedly. He opened the letter and glanced down, reading it quickly. "My father is going to talk to me," he said.

"When?" asked Jonathan.

"She said today," he responded. "I don't know how though. Parents don't usually show up in the middle of a school day just to have a conversation with their sons."

Jonathan opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a gasp from Rose. They looked at her, seeing that she was holding the day's copy of The Daily Prophet in her hands. Her mother had made sure that Rose had a subscription.

"What?" asked Albus.

"It's your father," she said, holding out the paper for them. She looked up at his face and saw him beginning to pale. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. They just mention him as having been the one giving a statement."

Albus felt the breath return to his lungs. "Next time, you might want to mention that part first," he growled. He took the paper from her and began to read aloud. It was a rather small article, pushed off to the fifth page. It didn't seem to be too important, though the subject matter was.

"_Last night," _he began "_authorities stumbled across the bodies of 4 dead muggles. Their deaths were first reported to Muggle authorities around 3 o'clock this morning after neighbors complained of hearing screams and then silence."_ He skimmed over some more of the article which gave more description about what the muggles had said. He then continued when he reached the part about his father. "_Strangely enough, Head of the Auror Department, Harry Potter showed up at the scene. Though known to have a particular interest in all items involving his department, the Head Auror gave no reason for him being there. His only statement was this: "I am investigating into the matter deeply. At this time, there is no reason for anyone to enter a state of panic, as things are under control. No, we do not have any causes or motives for the deaths. At this point in time, the only thing we are sure of is that magic was involved in the deaths."_

Albus looked up. "I can't believe someone murdered four Muggles for no reason," he said quietly.

"Did you see dad in the paper, Al?" came the voice of James.

"Yeah. I can't wait till he writes back so I can talk to him about it," said Albus.

"Why would you have to wait for him to write back?" said James, staring his brother in the face quizzically. "Just talk to him when he comes to talk to your class."

"What you mean, "when he comes to talk to your class?" asked Albus.

"He comes to talk to all the first year Defense classes, you idiot," said James matter-of-factly. "Who better than him? He did save the world…but you'll hear all about that when he talks to you lot," he said. He patted his brother on the top of the head rather harshly and smiled before walking away.

"Saved the world? Was he serious?" asked Albus, looking disappointed yet excited at the same time. Rose opened her mouth to speak. "No!" he exclaimed. "I'll find out later."

The day seemed to drag on after breakfast. Classes that should be interesting seemed to turn into hours of unending pain. History of Magic, which was only taught on Friday's by a ghost named Professor Binns was the longest class of the day. He seemed to continue on and on in an unending stream of facts that the students barely seemed to pay attention to. Indeed, it was during this class that Jonathan and Albus found themselves discussing the finer points of Quidditch, something that Albus knew a lot about. Finally, the time came and they bounded their way into Defense Against the Dark Arts. They took seats in the front row center, and Professor McCuliber was waiting.

"Welcome once more class. I promised you a speaker, and this is indeed what you will get. Now, usually, I would give a big introduction, however he does not have a lot of time to speak, so therefore I will let him introduce himself," she explained. The door to the classroom opened once more with a small squeak and in walked Albus' father, and Rose's uncle, Harry Potter. He walked straight up the aisle, focusing his attention on the students while doing so. He caught the gaze of his son, and their emerald eyes met for a moment.

Harry reached the front of the class. He turned and took a deep breath before speaking. "For those of you who do not know me, my name is Harry Potter," he began. "I imagine that your parents have told you something about me. I also imagine that a few of your books might have mentioned something about me. And, I know that a few of you have probably asked my niece or my son something about me. However, I am here to tell you some very important things. Defense Against The Dark Arts is very complicated. However, what you learn in this class may indeed save your life someday. I know it saved mine, quite a few times," he paused here, staring off into the back of the room, his gaze focused on something, but his eyes appearing to be very hazy.

"I have a scar on my forehead," he continued, lifting up his hair a little to show off the lightning bolt shaped scar, "that I got when I was a baby. It made me…different from other little children, even among witches and wizards. From a very young age, I had to face things that I pray none of you will ever have to face. I had to make sure that I knew a lot of magic. I had to defeat one of the greatest and most terrible wizards that ever lived; The Dark Lord, Voldemort," he held up his hand to keep the students quiet. Every one of them knew who Voldemort was. He focused his gaze on his son and saw a look in his eyes that he knew he had worn in his fifth year after he had lost his Godfather and was in Dumbledore's office on a rampage.

"I would like to say that it took great skill on my part to defeat him, however, I'd be lying. It took courage. It took effort. And most of all, it took help. There was no way that I could have defeated him by myself. If not for the effort of my best friends, and so many others, we all probably wouldn't be here having this little chat. One of your professor's, who is going to kill me for mentioning this, was one of the people who helped me defeat Voldemort. Professor Longbottom did something that I couldn't do, and for that, I owe him forever. Children, I cannot stress to you how important Defense is going to be in your future. However, what will be more important are the bonds that you form while here at Hogwarts." He stopped here. He looked around and took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to open the flood gates. "Any questions?"

Hands shot up around the room. Everyone seemed to have questions, with the exception of Albus, Rose, and their friend sitting next to them who bore a resemblance to someone Harry knew. He gazed around the room and began calling on the students.

"You there," he said, pointing to one of the boys sitting in the back row. "What's your question?"

"Well," began the boy in what appeared to be an usually deep voice for an 11 year old, "I'd like to know how exactly you did it. My mum says that You-Know-Who was one of the worst people ever, and he was strong as a Dragon." About half the hands in the room went down, but a good number of hands still stayed in the air.

"It was far from easy," Harry began, "and I won't go into specifics about it. But he and I had a duel…well not really a duel, but a fight downstairs in the Great Hall."

Their eyes bulged at that news. It must have been a great shock to them, knowing that in the same room that they had eaten in earlier, there had once been a battle there.

Harry continued to call on students. He answered question after question, never seeming to grow tired of hearing them. He smiled brightly, and after each question, he'd find some way to remind the students to pay attention in all of their classes because they'd never know when they'd need any of it. Time soon came for the class to end, and they were dismissed, all with the exception of Albus who was asked by his father to stay behind. Jonathan and Rose promised to meet him in the Common Room. Professor McCuliber had excused herself from the room.

"So…" Harry said, taking a seat opposite his son.

"What?" his son asked, trying his very best not to appear interested in anything his father had to say.

"You're angry, and I understand why," Harry said.

"You never told me. You told _James_…even Rose knew…but not me," he said, and anger swelled up in his chest.

"Albus, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know if you would be able to handle it. You're so young," he said. He was trying to make his son understand that it was for the best.

Albus turned and looked away from Harry. His emerald eyes became unfocused as tears welled up in them. "You should have told me," he said again.

"I apologize son, but it's not like I didn't have good reason not to tell you. Believe me, I of all people know what you're going through, which is why I can say that…that you should only know things when you need to know them. Knowing too much all at once can make people…stupid." Harry thought back, recalling his journey for the Horcruxes. Though he knew that he would have been happier if Dumbledore had just left them with all the clues, it made his friendship stronger, and taught him how to be a leader. If he could change it, he would do nothing different. "Son, can you forgive me…please?" Harry smiled. He took his hand and wiped the tears from his son's eyes with his thumbs. "Have I ever done anything wrong to you?"

"I forgive you dad," Albus said. He smiled a stiff little smile and threw his arm around his father's neck. Harry kissed his son on the forehead.

"You know…you can make it all up to me with a new broomstick at Christmas," his son beamed.

"It's a deal," his father agreed. "When you come home, I'll tell you everything you want to know. You just make sure to write home to your mother tonight, before she blasts me into oblivion when I get home."

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"I envy you, Nightstar," said Vespa, peering into the cold eyes of her servant.

"Mistress? Why?" he looked puzzled.

"I have not killed in so long," she said, sounding weary. "Soon though."

"Yes," he said.

"It is time that we officially began the next part of the plan," she said. "Our Minister has served for far too long."

"I agree," he responded.

"You know what you must do," she said simply, and indeed he did know what to do.


	6. Conversations With Dead People

**Author's Note:** I am so very sorry that it took so long for me to post this chapter. I promise not to take so long with the next one. Please review, and don't hate me!

Harry smiled after leaving his son. He had done what he had come to the school to do. Giving the Defense classes the 'odd talk' so to speak had been Ginny's idea, and indeed the new headmaster had jumped at the opportunity to have Harry come every once in a while.

He was about to head out the front doors to so he could head down to Hogsmade to apparate, however he was struck with an idea that stopped him from doing so. He decided that while he was at the school, he would venture to the Headmaster's office to have a quick conversation with two of the former headmasters, Dumbledore and Snape.

It had taken much work on Harry's part to have a portrait of Severus Snape hung in the office along side other celebrated heads. Indeed, many protested it, yet in the end, Harry had been able to make it clear that Snape was more of a martyr than murderer. When asked to tell how he knew, he had purportedly left out the fact that Severus was motivated by love for Harry's mother, a fact that Harry still to be rather odd.

Walking through the halls, he felt a feeling of nostalgia. For seven years, this place had been his home. Here, he had experienced his highs and lows. He had won trophies and become the man he was today. As he neared the office, he caught the gaze of many students. Hogwarts had never been a place to have many guests, and one that they had all read about and heard about from there parents about caused them to act very differently. A few of the older girls in their seventh year winked at Harry, causing him to turn scarlet. Though he was very far from interested in them, and the attention made him weary, he had always been a bit on the shy side. He had been told by his wife many times that he was handsome.

He reached the stone gargoyles that sat outside the office. They had been repaired many years ago, and he recalled when they had been destroyed during his seventh year. The fact that he did not know the password then struck him. He was about to try and find a professor when the staircase opened and out walked a familiar face.

"Harry!" exclaimed Neville. He grabbed Harry's hand, shaking it vigorously and patting the man on the back.

"Great to see you Neville," Harry said after they had broken apart. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Harry," he smiled. "It's been a good first week. What about you? Being _the_ auror can't be an easy."

"I love it," he said. "You know, you should come over to the house for dinner sometime during the Christmas break. Everyone would love to see you," he said.

Neville smiled once more. "Sounds great," he said. "I'd love to stay and chat Harry, but I've got something to do. I'll see you around some time."

"Okay," Harry said. "Oh, Neville, what's the password to see the Headmaster?

"Pensieve," Neville said before walking off down the hall.

Harry said the password and the gargoyles split. He walked up into the office, finding Headmaster Magnus McGonagall sitting at his desk, book in hands.

Magnus McGonagall was the younger brother of Harry's former Transfiguration teacher, Minerva. When the time had come for Hogwarts to be rebuilt, there had been chaos. The Board of Governors had to be recreated. Hogwarts needed new Professors as well as a new Head. Minerva had stepped up immediately and taken the spot, bringing in her brother to take over her former position. However, after a few years, she had decided that she was getting up in age and though she would have liked to stay at the school, she felt that there was need for all new leadership to usher them into a new era, both for the school and the magical world at large.

Snapping himself from his trance, he walked into the office. He had been here many times during his years at Hogwarts, and even after graduating, he had returned her quite a few times to talk to the Headmaster.

"Ah, Harry," said Magnus. "It's so very good to see you. I heard you were visiting the school today," said the man as he came out from behind his desk to shake Harry's hand.

"Nice to see you as well, Magnus," Harry smiled.

"What brings you to my office?" he asked, indicating for Harry to take a seat, an offer he declined.

"Nothing really," he said. "It's strange, but I enjoy talking to the portraits."

Magnus looked up at the wall. "Yes, I used to enjoy talking to them, that is until one of them wouldn't shut up," he said.

"I imagine you're talking about Phineas," Harry laughed, looking up at the man's portrait on the wall as he appeared to be sleeping. "No, he's never been much of the quiet sort, has he?"

"Well, I'll leave you alone," Magnus said.

"No, I don't want you to be put out of your own office," he said.

"It's alright. I rather like patrolling the halls; it gives me something to do. Plus, I can always catch the trouble makers," he smiled mischievously before leaving.

Harry looked up at the two portraits that he had come to see. In fact, they were the only portraits he ever cared to see when he came to Hogwarts.

"Hello Harry," said the kind voice of Albus Dumbledore from his portrait. "How are things?"

"Everything is fine, Professor," Harry said.

Dumbledore looked at him kindly. "Harry, I am neither your Professor, or even alive for that matter. You can do away with the formalities."

"Professor, you say that every time I come here, and you know I never listen," Harry smiled. "Are you going to stare at me or are you going to speak, Professor Snape?"

The man's distinguished picture looked as though he had been trying desperately to pretend Harry was not standing there, however it was hard as there was nothing else in the frame to hide him, nor any other portrait for him to retreat to.

"Potter," his portrait said curtly.

"Nice to see you too, Professor," Harry said sarcastically. "Still pining after my mother?" he mumbled as an afterthought. He knew that if the real Severus Snape was standing before him, he'd have been blasted into oblivion. However all his portrait could do was mumble obscenities and wander off, disappearing into the background of his portrait.

"Must you do that on each of your visits?" Dumbledore smirked.

Harry merely laughed.

"So Harry, what really brings you up here? Though I know you do enjoy seeing us, I must admit that you come to us more so for advice than anything else." Dumbledore said.

"Well Professor," Harry said, and he was overcome with a nostalgia that made him feel as though he was a young student again, "I must admit that there are strange things happening again, and I don't know what it all means."

"Well, explain, and I will give you my input."

For the next ten minutes or so, Harry explained about the Dark Mark and the attack on Draco Malfoy. He made sure not to leave anything out, and Professor Dumbledore made sure not to interrupt.

Placing a hand on his chin, Professor Dumbledore spoke. "Well, I know you have already deduced that the two are connected. However, I suggest that you look a little deeper into this woman. If she is who she claims to be, and capable of what you told me, you have more on your hands than you think," He explained.

"You know more than you're telling me, don't you?" asked Harry, standing and preparing to leave.

Dumbledore smirked once more. "I am but a portrait Harry. Whatever knowledge you think I posses has passed on with my body."

Harry laughed. "Of course," he said slyly. "I will see you later than, Professor," Harry responded, and his emerald eyes twinkled.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Ah, you've been practicing."

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"Let's head down to Hagrid's," said Rose. The trio were in the Gryffindor Common Room, studying quietly, much to the appease of Rose who's study instincts had been inherited from her mother. "I think you two could use a break," she smiled. Jonathan had been reading a Potions book, while Albus' nose was buried in a Defense book, a subject he had suddenly taken a liking to.

"Yeah, it's about time," said Jonathan. "I was wondering if we were ever going to go. I could use some fresh air."

"I think we all could," Albus agreed. "Let's put out books back, and then head down."

The trio placed their books back in their trunks and headed down to the front doors. The had been invited by Hagrid to his house. It was very close to the Forbidden Forest, and they wanted to make sure they got there before it got too late. As the exited the staircase and turned the corner leading to the doors, they were surprised when they saw a familiar face standing against the wall casually.

"Look," pointed Jonathan. They walked up a little quicker.

"I was invited too," said Scorpius. "I was hoping I hadn't missed you yet," he said, joining them as they walked out the doors to the small cabin with smoke billowing from the chimney.

They walked in silence, admiring the Whomping Willow tree in the distance. They watched as it swatted what appeared to be a bug, but in reality was a small bird that had flown away from its flock.

"I like your earrings, Rose," said Scorpius quietly, and from the look on his face, it appeared that he had been debating with himself during the entire walk as to whether or not he should say it.

Rose was happy it was dark, as no sooner had the words left his mouth; her face turned as bright red as her father's head. "Thank you," she returned.

Albus and Jonathan had not noticed the exchange, and if they did, they said nothing about it. They reached Hagrid's hut soon after. They knocked loudly on the door.

The large man opened the door quickly. He smiled his great smile, ushering the children in and closing the door behind them.

"Take a seat, take a seat," he said, directing them to his large squishy blue sofa.

The trio sat down in the chair, sinking into the imprint that the large man had left in the chair. They sat quietly while he brought out tea for them. Handing them each a cup, he took a seat in his large arm chair.

"So…how's yer firs' week been?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup. "I saw yer father today, Albus. He stopped by before he wen' up to th' castle."

"I saw him. He stopped talked to the Defense classes," explained Albus.

"It was a really exciting talk," Rose chimed in.

"Thas good," Hagrid smiled. "You lot are welcome to help yourselves to some home made rock cakes," he said, pointing to something that looked like brownies that had been burned many times over. "Scorpius, I heard abou' you," Hagrid said.

"What about me?" Scorpius said, though from the red that had rushed to his face, he knew what Hagrid was talking about.

"I hear you got a knack for Transfiguration," he explained. "You wowed 'em up at the school," he continued, beaming.

Scorpius looked up at Hagrid, opening his mouth to say something and then closed it. He looked to be debating with himself about something, but in the end, he smiled brightly at Hagrid.

The five of them continued to talk well into the night. Hagrid enjoyed the company. Scorpius seemed to open up a lot, laughing with them and talking about the events of their first week. Hagrid could often be heard retelling stories from when their parents had been students at the school and all the mischief they had gotten into. At the end of the night, he took them back up to the school where the students parted ways and headed for bed.

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Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic had a late night. It was a little after midnight and he was heading home. Though he lived no where near the Ministry and often just apparated home from his office, he needed to pick up some food from the open all night Muggle store that was close to the Ministry's underground building.

He walked slowly, taking deep breaths as he walked. Usually, he was surrounded by people and stuck in a stuff office all day long. However, at night he was free. He needed no body guards, as he was a former auror, a very accomplished one at that.

The store was about a ten block walk. He walked slowly and calmly. There was no rush for him. As he continued on, he noticed that he was not alone. There was no one in front of him he could hear no footsteps behind him. This let him know only one thing.

Someone magical was trailing him.

He continued walking, slowing his pace just a bit and reaching into his robes, placing his hand on his wand. He knew that if someone was following him, it was for one of two reasons. Either they were following him just to see his routine, or they were going to try and attack him. He could not tell how many there were, but he was anxious to find out. He continued to walk, and as he neared the store he decided to call them out. If they were going to attack he did not want them anywhere near the store. He stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"I know you're there," He said calmly and quietly. "I suggest you come out, before I force you out of hiding."

Whoever was in hiding had stopped moving, Kingsley deduced. There were at least two of them. Kingsley commanded for them to come out once more and they agreed this time.

Two of them appeared directly in front of him. Kingsley was shocked. They appeared to be wearing Death Eater masks but there was a shining silver pentagram on the forehead of each of their masks.

"What the hell are you two supposed to be?" asked Kingsley. He surveyed the two of them.

"Well," began the taller of the two, "we've been given a special mission. We're supposed to kill you."

"Well, I believe that whoever sent you must be either very dumb or must not care very much about your lives, because many have tried to kill me over the years, and as you can see, I'm still standing," he said. "_Reducto,_" Kingsley shouted, pointing his wand at the floor in front of them which exploded. He knew they would have already moved. When the rubble had cleared, one had vanished and the other was still standing there.

"Stupefy," Kingsley yelled, and the spell narrowly missed the man.

"Crucio," he responded. The spell missed Kingsley by a mile, but it had done its job. It caused Kingsley to jump to the side, and now the other had reappeared. The two Death Eaters or whatever they were calling themselves were firing off spells at Kingsley. They seemed to be working quite well together.

"Aguamenti!" Kingsley yelled, pointing at the ground, and both of the duo slipped in the jet of water that had erupted from the tip of his wand. Their hearts pounded as they lay on the ground.

"Incendio," one of them yelled, pointing to the water. It began to rise from the ground, turning into steam. It rose quickly and the steam made it hard for them to see.

Kingsley conjured s shield as curses began to fire off at him. He side stepped, trying to make his way out of the endless fog, which he guessed had been magically modified. He raised his wand hand to try and clear it when he felt it burn. He looked down at it to see that it had been cut with a deep gash that was now bleeding.

"Come on," said one of the voices. "Someone's coming. We gotta go," he continued. Kingsley heard two pops and he knew that they had fled.

Kingsley raised his hand once more, about to wave away the fog when he heard a voice call and the fog disappeared.

"Minister," yelled a familiar voice.

He looked up to find the secretary of Harry Potter, Charity putting her bag of groceries down and rushing towards him.

"What happened?" she asked, talking his hand into hers and examining it.

"I was attacked," he explained, looking at her quizzically.

"What?" she asked, noticing his gaze. "Oh, it's alright. I live about two blocks from here. I just needed some stuff," she explained. "Now, I think you should come back to my house for a little while. I have a couple of things that can get you all fixed up," she said.

"No, I have to report this," he said stubbornly.

Charity seemed to have other things on her mind, as she picked up her bag and grabbed the Minister by the arm. "I have to insist. I don't know how, but they put some kind of poison into the cut. It doesn't appear to be anything too serious, but still, let me check you out. Then you can make the report and then head to St. Mungo's."

Charity apparated Kingsley to her apartment. She sat him down onto one of her armchairs and headed into the kitchen. After a couple of minutes, during which Kingsley tried his hardest not to bleed on her furniture, she arrived back out in the sitting room with a Goblet and what appeared to be a Muggle first aid kit. She thrust the Goblet into his hands and he drank down the potion slowly.

"What was that?" He asked as he set the cup down.

"It's a home remedy," she smiled. "It'll build your strength back up, considering you lost so much blood. It helps to fight the poison by flushing it out of your system. I don't know how good it'll work, considering I don't know what kind, or how much poison it is, but it'll help."

Kingsley continued to drink the potion while Charity used the first-aid kit to sew up the wound.

"You're good to go," she smiled.

"Thanks," Kingsley said, setting down the goblet and standing. "Thank Merlin that you came by when you did."

Charity blushed. "It's nothing," she said. "Go and do what you have to do."

Kingsley nodded to her and apparated away with a small pop.


	7. Pieces Of The Puzzle

**Author's Note:** I am so very sorry that this chapter has taken so long to be posted. I promise to have the chapters up at least weekly from now on. Please review, and enjoy.

Vespa LeStrange walked slowly up to the tall church. It was around nine O'clock at night as she approached it. The sky was dark and the stars were shining brightly with full force. Her dark eyes looked up, gazing into the endless void that was the dark sky.

Her thoughts were moving quickly. She had come to this place for one reason and one reason only.

She was here to murder.

Vespa had to admit to herself that she had miscalculated Harry Potter. It had been a major part of the plan to throw the magical world into chaos. She had hoped that Harry Potter would have issued an actual statement, but from what she could tell he had not pieced the murder of the four muggles together with what had happened to Draco Malfoy.

She had issued the attack on the Minister of Magic, and she had asked the two members of her group if he had seen the markings on their robes. "The pentagram was shining bright mistress," they said. They also went on to describe how Kingsley looked at the mark when he had seen it. She had hoped that he would be the one to expose it to the world, but he had not. She still wanted the Minister dead, and she had left the job up to Nightstar. He had not failed her yet, and she knew he never would.

Walking up the stairs, her heels clicked softly. The large doors to the building had been left ajar by they priest, no doubt hoping that some young sinner would come in, hoping to redeem their soul.

The doors creaked a little as she pushed them open a little more. The inside was large. Three different sections of rows of seats could be seen. She looked up, towards the very front of the church and saw a large cross. Behind it were stain glass windows, each depicting some biblical scene.

Off to the side of the one of the rows was the priest, sweeping gently, not seeming to notice that someone had entered the church. As she walked towards him, he looked up upon noticing the clicking of her heels.

He appeared to be about 60. He had a head full of gray hair and bright blue eyes. His smile was very bright and welcoming.

"Hell, my child," he said in a deep voice. "How may I help you tonight?" He asked, leaning the broom against the wall and offering her a seat.

"Thank you," she said, taking the seat. "I was just walking past when I was hit with some feeling," she said softly, trying to play up the role to the fullest. "It was like something was calling me to come in here," she explained.

"Aye," he said in a thick accent. "It was the calling of the Lord. Destiny draws us to where we are supposed to go. We can't fight our destinies," he smiled.

"Destiny?" she looked up at him. Her facial expression hardened. "I don't believe in destiny. Destiny is nothing more than a child's play thing, giving hope to the hopeless."

The priest did not seem to notice the change in her tone. "And what's wrong with giving hope to the hopeless?" he smiled. "Destiny lets us know that we all have somewhere to be. It means that no matter what happens, you're meant to be here for a reason, whether it be to save the world or to destroy it."

Vespa looked thoughtful for a moment. "You're a wise man, father," she said, standing and turning her back to him. She walked slowly through the pews without another word. She heard the priest resume his sweeping as she stood outside the large doors.

"Coloportus," she mumbled, sealing the door of the church and trapping the unsuspecting priest inside. For one gleaming second, she had though about abandoning what she had come to do. But her better judgment had the best of her. Using her wand like a blow torch, she carved her pentagram into the door in fire. She ensured that the door would survive in tact and watched as the church burned. She could hear the priest rushing towards the door, yelling and screaming for someone to help him. Muggles could be heard coming, and she knew it was time for her to go.

"Forgive me father, fore I have sinned," she muttered to herself before disappearing with a loud _crack._

0000000000000

October rolled around rather quickly for the students of Hogwarts. Along with it came many new things. Quidditch teams had begun their training sessions. The Gryffindor team, under the leadership of Jeanine Bell had booked the Quidditch Pitch more than any other team had. She was in her 6th year and had been the one to let James onto the team as the new Beater.

During the tryouts, he had flown wonderfully. Both of the previous beaters had graduated from the school, so it was with great pleasure that James and his friend Tyler had tried out as a pair. The two had worked wonderfully together, and had even made Professor Longbottom compare them to Fred and George Weasley; the beaters during his time at Hogwarts.

It was with great pleasure that James practiced with the team. He and Tyler worked wonderfully together, seeming to be like two human bludgers themselves.

"Ok team," came the voice of Jeanine, "I'd like to commend you all for the hard work today. The first game of the year isn't that far away and I'd like to make sure we're all prepared."

The team broke apart and headed to the locker room to change into their robes.

000000000

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were in their sitting room, having just sent their son, Hugo, up to his room. The pair were talking quietly, after just having eaten dinner.

"When was the last time you heard from Harry and Ginny?" asked Ron.

"Just today," he said. "Ginny was on her way to work, and she said Harry was busy with something for work."

"Something for work?" asked Hermione, looking at her husband quizzically.

"Yeah, but I don't know what it is though," explained Ron. "He's been ducking in and out of the office and every time I catch a glimpse of him, he say's he'll see me later."

"Well, what do you thinks going on?" she asked. "It can't be anything to serious. I mean, you _are_ directly underneath him in the chain of command, not to mention his best friend. If it was anything too serious, I'm sure he'd tell you."

"Well, that's just it," He began, "He's not really telling anyone anything much. Lately he's either been out of the office or hulled up in there with Kingsley. And whenever I ask Charity about it, she says that she's not supposed to talk about it to anyone except Harry."

She looked at her husband for a moment. "Ron, if it were anything serious, he'd tell you," she reassured her husband.

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, you're right." He smiled at her.

"Always the surprised voice," she commented, "even after all these years.

"Well, it's only because I believe that you have to be wrong sometimes," he laughed.

"You know Ron," she began, "if it's really bothering you that much, just come right out and ask Harry about it. You know he wouldn't lie to you," she said.

"Yeah, I will," he said. "So, how's work going? When are they going to let you know about the promotion?"

"Well, no one has said anything yet," she said nervously. "I mean, it _is _for the Head of the Department, and from what I've heard, mostly everyone has put in their votes, but the decision rests with Kingsley. It's his decision really."

"Well then, you don't have anything to worry about," he said. "You know that you're going to get it. You're the most qualified for the position, not to mention the smartest person in the office."

Her cheeks became rosy as she looked at her husband. "Oh, Ron," she said, stifling a grin.

"Halloween is coming up," she mused.

"Yeah, so?" Ron gave her a puzzled look.

"Well, Lily's going to be at Hogwarts for her Halloween," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"And?" asked Ron, still not seeming to understand where she was going with this.

Hermione sighed loudly. "Well Ronald, since I have to spell it out for you; something bad happened to us every year at Halloween at Hogwarts."

Ron looked at her and laughed a quiet laugh, then quickly tried to cover it with a cough. "Hermione, you can't be worried. We had to contend with You-Know-Who trying to kill us every single year. They don't have to worry about anything like that, and even if they did, the kids are just like us, which means that-"

"That they'll go looking for trouble if it doesn't find them first," she finished his sentence.

Her loving husband opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, instead choosing to end the discussion.

Hermione leaned in close and placed her lips on his as she placed her head and fell asleep.

00000000

"Harry, people are starting to ask questions," said Charity. She was sitting in the office of her boss, "particularly Ron," she said.

"Really?" he asked, not looking up from the papers that he was signing.

"Yes," she said. She picked the papers up and stuffed them into a folder she was carrying. "I don't want to keep lying to everyone, Harry," she said, and there was a quiet desperation in her voice.

He looked up at his secretary, allowing his eyes to penetrate hers. There was a soft sadness in them and he could tell that it was from her having to lie for him. "Charity, it's just that I don't want to throw anyone into a panic. I just want to make sure we've got all of the facts. Once we can decipher everything that's happened, then you can speak freely," he smiled.

She sighed and then smiled weakly. "Well, as long as it's not for much longer," she said.

There was a knock at the door. Without waiting for anyone to come in, Harry's best friend of more than two decades walked in. His shoulder length trademark red hair was tied back in a ponytail. His once slender frame and face had filled out with much muscle over the years, as had Harry's. Crows feet were playing at the corner of his baby blue eyes. He was wearing the Ministry black robes, embossed with the marker for the Auror Department.

"Well, there's no need to invite you in anymore," said Harry grinning.

Ron did not return the smile. "I need to ask you a couple of questions," Ron said.

Charity, sensing the tension in the room decided to take this opportunity to leave. "Well…I'll just be going now…," she said nervously. She opened the door and was about to leave when Ron spoke up.

"Don't leave on my account," he said, realizing that he had been a bit rude on his approach and smiled, trying to warm things over.

"No," she began, "it's alright. I've got to send some owls. As a matter of fact, have you seen the Minister?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, he's upstairs in his office. But you might want to watch out, he's got a nasty cough and it could be contagious."

"Thanks for the tip," she smirked. She said her goodbye's and closed the door.

Ron looked at his friend for a moment before taking a seat. "So?"

"Yes?" asked Harry, trying his best not to grin as he knew what Ron was there to find out. No doubt in Harry's mind that Hermione had sent him here.

"Harry, as your best mate, it's alright if there are things you want to keep secret," said Ron in an unnaturally calm voice. "But," he said loudly, and his chest seemed to rise and poke out a bit more, "as the Deputy Head of the Auror Department, I have a right to be informed of the goings on inside this office."

"You're right, Ron," said Harry.

"I know I am," he responded. "That's why I'd like you to explain this," said Ron, pulling out his wand and flicking it. A short stack of papers appeared on Harry's desk.

"What the hell is this?" asked Harry, sitting up to examine the papers.

"That," Ron began, "is a report that one of the newbie's brought to my attention because he couldn't get in here to see you," he said. "There was an attack a couple of nights ago. A church was burned to the ground."

"And?" asked Harry.

"And at first it appeared that it had been an accident, but after the firemen had arrived at the scene, they discovered that there had been no real cause of the fire. Not to mention the fact that though the whole church burned to the ground, the front door to the church remained completely in tact and a glowing pentagram was burned into it," he said. "We had a hell of a time trying to cover this one up."

"Another pentagram?" Harry mumbled to himself.

"What do you mean another one?" Ron asked. Harry did not respond as he was now going through the locked drawer on his file cabinet.

"Ron, there is something going on," Harry finally said. "I knew it was all connected, and I believe that whoever it was that burned down this church was trying to send me a message."

"What the hell are you rambling about?" Ron asked, standing up and trying to see what Harry was looking at.

Harry turned to his friend and began to explain. He told him about what had happened at Snape's house as well as the attack on Draco Malfoy. He explained about the death of the four muggles as well as Kingsley being attacked. When he was done, Ron stared at him.

"So what do we know?" asked Ron.

Right now," said Harry, taking a seat, "Nothing."

"So what's the deal with this Vespa woman? Is she really who she's claiming to be?"

"We're not sure. She has only appeared once, though I'm sure she is the cause of all these other tragedies," he explained.

"Well then, there's not much we can do now," Ron said.

"Exactly," Harry concluded. Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking. "There is one thing that I can do though," he said.

"What?"

"Go to the public and tell them everything," Harry said.

"You can't be serious, Harry," Ron said. "You can't go public with this, especially since you don't know what _this_ is."

"Ron," Harry began in a more serious tone, "You know I've never been big on keeping the public in the dark."

"Harry, telling them about this now would throw them into a state of chaos. You need to wait till we get a few more of the facts. We need something solid before we go and make such a huge announcement."

Harry opened his mouth to speak when the door burst open. Kingsley walked in, carrying a large map that he placed down on Harry's desk.

"I'm afraid that we may have to make an announcement today," he coughed.

"Why?" asked both Harry and Ron.

Kingsley's deep slow voice spoke. "There were multiple attacks last night, spanning across a vast surface area."

"Who was attacked?"

"Both Muggle and magical families, and look at the pattern they form," he said. He waved his wand over the large map and several black dots appeared. At first they did not seem to be in any pattern, but after all the dots appeared, a red line formed, connecting them in a pentagram formation.


	8. Villains

"How is your mother doing?" Professor Longbottom asked. He and James were sitting in his office.

"She's fine," the youth replied.

"Do you know why I asked you to come here?"

"No, not really Professor," James replied.

"James, you're a brilliant young man," Professor Longbottom began, "your marks in your classes are great. However, I've been getting word from a couple of people that a lot of the pranks that have been happening are your doing."

James looked up at the Professor. "Really?" He responded, and the tone in his voice was one that he had practiced many times before. It had helped him to escape much trouble at home, but somehow his father had always been able to see through his false innocence.

James had never been a trouble maker. He had always had an interest in jokes and things of that nature. Indeed, many a weekend, he could be found at his uncle's joke shop in Diagon Alley.

Professor Longbottom surveyed the young boy. From the time Neville had spent at Harry's house after they had graduated from Hogwarts, he had seen James in action, and had even fallen for a trick or two of his.

He had not gotten any inkling from anyone that connected James to any of the minor pranks that had happened. The only reason he had called the boy in was to try and weasel some information from him by making up a fake informant. If all held well, James would end up confessing on himself and avoiding a more severe punishment than if the other Professor's caught him.

"Yes," he said, staring at his young charge. "I can't tell who it was, for obvious reasons."

"Oh," said James, looking down. "I don't know anything about it."

Neville surveyed James. He looked at him, almost trying to will the young man to tell the truth. "Are you sure, James? If you did know anything about it, it could just be our little secret. As long as the pranks stopped, there'd be no need for anyone else to know," Neville said. His eyes appeared to be glossed over, not really focusing on anything.

"Really?" James asked, and his tone changed once more. He was now considering turning himself in, but that thought was soon overpowered by a new one forming in his head.

"James, eventually you're going to get caught in the act," Explained Neville. "I'm offering you a chance now to save yourself a couple of detentions, especially with the Quidditch season coming up. I'd like to see the Cup make a return to my office," he smiled and nodded at an area on the shelf that he had obviously reserved for the cup.

"Don't worry, Professor," James said as he stood and prepared to leave the office. "I'll make sure it does."

Professor Longbottom nodded at James as he opened the door.

"Oh, and James," Neville added as an afterthought, "Do be careful." James nodded and closed the door.

0000000000

_Forwards and Backwards Yet Full of Avails, _

_Times of Old Martyrs Reminiscent Of Fairy Tales, _

_Never Needed, Yet Needed Still, _

_Where You Rest Your Head at Night, Nearer To The Vill _

The trio of Albus, Rose, and Jonathan had noticed the sign one morning. Victorie had told them that the sheet had changed into that one single verse. She had also asked around and found that all the houses had gotten the exact same clue.

Rose had quickly copied the clue down, and immediately went to try and decipher it. After breakfast, she had rushed off to the library and was mumbling something about some text.

In the Common Room, Jonathan and Albus sat, quietly trying to do their homework which had, for the most part, been neglected during the previous week. It was also quite harder for them to do it without Rose, who had kept them on track and when they could make her believe it was too hard, allowed them to copy from her papers which coincidentally were always great.

"I don't think that I can do this," Albus said, closing his Potions book.

"It's not that hard," Jonathan said, peering at his own paper lazily and writing something down quickly. "All we have to do is list the properties of Moonstone and name a potion that each one is used in."

"Jonathan, there are 37 uses for Moonstone, and the book only lists twenty," Albus said. "We'd have to go to the library for a book that lists the other 17."

"Let's go then," Jonathan said. "I need to lock my stuff up though, you know, before the Nargles have a chance to take it."

"Yeah…" Albus smiled, looking at his friend. He had become accustomed to his brand of strange.

The two walked towards the library, having to push their way through one of the hidden doors after being chased down a corridor by Peeves, who had been threatening to throw a bucket of some foul smelling liquid on the first person to pass him.

When they reached the library doors, they were greeted by Scorpius who had just come out of them.

"Hello Scorpius," greeted both Albus and Jonathan.

"Hey," He returned.

"What were you doing?" Albus asked.

"I had to look something up for Charms, and then I was talking to Rose," he said.

"We need to get something for Potions," Jonathan said.

"Yeah," Scorpius said. "That was very annoying."

"We're going down to Hagrid's later," Albus said. "You're very welcome to come."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," Scorpius said. He walked away as the two walked into the library.

000000000

"How severe were the attacks?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth in anger. His heart pounded inside his chest and answer swelled up in him.

Kingsley opened his mouth to speak, but instead coughed several times loudly, each one seeming to be more severe than the one that had preceded it.

"Kingsley, have you been to St. Mungo's?" asked Ron, directing the man to a seat. "You should really let them heal you up real quick."

"There isn't anytime, at least not now," he coughed. "There were deaths at each one of those points," he said, eager for a change of subject.

"Have we got anyone there investigating?" Harry asked quickly. There was no time for questions. They needed to take control.

"No," Kingsley said.

"There are 14 of those attacks," Ron said.

"Ok, Ron. I'll need you to handle these," Harry said. "Make sure that you set up a perimeter, and that there is no one from any media outlet allowed in."

"Who should I bring?" Ron asked. "The auror's are probably going to be a bit much."

"No," Harry disagreed, "we're going to need them. But since they probably won't be enough, bring some of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Standards on everything; Obliviators, cover stories…the works."

Ron nodded. "This is going to take all night. Meeting in the morning?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. " Ten o'clock sharp."

Ron closed the door, leaving Harry and Kingsley alone in the office. An awkward moment stayed after the door closed, as Harry stared off, not really focusing on anything.

"We need to have a press conference, now," Harry finally said.

"I agree," Kingsley said. "If we can have everyone from the media here, then Ron will have an easier task of keeping everyone away."

A few hours later later, in the atrium Kingsley was standing at a podium. Harry was standing a little off to the side, but still close enough to answer questions. Chairs had been conjured, and they were currently full of people from the biggest media outlets linked to the magical world. People from the many stations on the wireless were seated, as well as people from the biggest newspapers and magazines. Writers from _The Daily Prophet,_ _Witch Weekly, _and even Xenophilius Lovegood from _The Quibbler _were there.

"I know you all are wondering why I have asked you to come here, especially considering that at this time, we should all be at home with our families, eating dinner," Kingsley said in his deep slow voice. He paused for a moment, peering at the confused faces of the crowd. A few pictures were snapped. "Head Auror Harry Potter and I have called this press conference to address an issue that up until this point, none of you have known about.

"For the past month or so, strange events have been occurring, and have culminated in a huge attack that happened earlier this evening," Kingsley began.

He went on to tell about all the events that had happened. Many hands were raised, but all questions were to be held till the end. He went into as much detail as he and Harry would allow to be heard. Lucky for them, Kingsley had a way with words, and despite everything that had happened, he was able to put a positive spin on it all.

"Any questions?" Kingsley asked. He looked about the crowd, recognizing some of the reporters, and had decided not to call on them at first, instead wanting to get some of the softball questions out of the way.

"Rick Sullivan, Witch Weekly," the gruff man said. "Minister, are there any leads as to who is behind the attacks?"

"Yes," Kingsley said. "We have a few leads and they are all being looked into as we speak." He noticed that more hands went up with his answer. "The reason we are not disclosing any more information about the leads is that we do not want to give out false information. The last thing we'd like to do is throw the magical community into a state of chaos."

"Lisa Crocks, Daily Prophet," said a blonde haired witch, "Minister; you claim that you don't want to throw us into a state of chaos, yet all you have done at this Press Conference is tell us things that will make people panic. From what you have told us, you have seemingly just put everything together."

Sweat poured from Kingsley who was gathering his thoughts. He stood before the crowd, and for some reason, his mind was now drawing a blank. He opened his mouth to speak, but not only could he not find his words, but he found that he could not speak. His mouth was somehow extremely dry and when he found himself trying to swallow, he found that he could not. He could feel his palms, which were usually clammy at Press Conferences, stay very dry. He looked at the crowd, and was unable to focus on any one face. It seemed like the lights in the room were flickering as his he felt his heartbeat speed up.

"Kingsley!" Yelled Harry, racing to his old friend who had just collapsed behind the podium. "Someone get a Healer," he yelled. He picked Kingsley's head up from the ground, not wanting to move him too much. He could feel his own sweat mixing with that from Kingsley's head as the flashbulbs from dozens of camera's continued to go off.

0000000

"Why didn't Rose want to come?" asked Scorpius. He, Albus, and Jonathan were heading down to Hagrid's hut. It was just after 8:30 and the night sky was lit up with many stars shining brightly.

"She's wasn't feeling too well," Jonathan said.

"Is she going to be alright?" asked Scorpius quickly.

Albus looked at him curiously. "Yeah, she was heading to the Hospital Wing so that Madame Pomfrey can heal her."

Scorpius' face turned red, but luckily was hidden by the darkness of the night. "Oh," was all he mustered to say.

The trio arrived at Hagrid's cabin. They could see that a flame was going inside, as the house had a little glow about it. They banged on the door for Hagrid to open it, but no sounds of anyone stirring came. They kept banging and banging, but to no avail.

"I wonder where he is," Jonathan said.

"He could be in the forest," Albus said.

"Well, we're not going in there to look for him," Scorpius said, and it sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

"Hagrid," called Albus, hoping that he would hear something in the distance calling him back.

"Listen," said Jonathan.

The three stopped talking and listened. They could hear Hagrid in the forest. It sounded like he was far off, but not too far for them to walk in. It sounded like he was just going in, as they heard a ruffling of leaves heading deeper into the forest.

"Do you think we should go in after him?" Albus asked.

"We should wait for him to come back," Scorpius suggested.

"But he could be in their all night, and he probably doesn't know we're here waiting for him," Jonathan said. "Albus the forest is off limits though."

"We won't stay too long," Albus stated. "Plus, we are technically being escorted by a Professor, even though he doesn't know it." Albus had a natural knack for rule breaking, though he did not know where it had come from; his mother was very straight laced most of the time.

"Fine, let's go," Scorpius said. "But if you two want to go in too deep, I swear I'll leave you in there by yourselves," the Slytherin said, and from his tone, they knew they were serious.

The walked slowly towards the forest, which started quite a few yards from Hagrid's hut. Albus looked into the darkness that was the forest and swore he saw a figure standing off to one of the sides. He looked back again and was sure that it was just his nerves playing on him.

They walked slowly into the forest, following the sounds of Hagrid. They continued to call him and though he did not respond back directly, they could hear the man's cries and the sounds of him moving up ahead.

"Haven't we gone far enough in?" Scorpius said. "I think we should leave. If Hagrid was in the forest and heard us, he'd turn around and come back."

They stopped moving when Scorpius said this. "You're right," Albus said. Using their lit wands, they looked around in all directions. They had been walking for the last half hour and had gotten quite a ways into the forest.

"Listen," said Jonathan.

The all quieted down and did not hear anything except for the eerie silence that came from the forest.

"What are we listening to?" asked Albus. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly," Jonathan said. "Whoever we thought was Hagrid stopped moving."

"How can we be so sure it wasn't Hagrid?" asked Albus, whose heart, was now beating quickly.

"Albus," Scorpius said, and there was now desperation in his voice, "if that was Hagrid, he would have come back for us."

"Let's just go back," Jonathan said. "We can follow our path back."

"Okay, let's go," Albus said.

The three turned on their heels, about to try and find their way back out of the forest. They had only walked a few feet when there was a flash of red light and Jonathan dropped to the ground.

"Jonathan?" said both Albus and Scorpius. They rushed to his side, trying to shake him awake.

"He's been stunned," Scorpius said. The pale haired boy looked around, moving his lit wand in all directions. "We need to get out of here."

"Help me carry him," Albus said. He was trying to move his friend, but he was just not strong enough to do so alone.

Scorpius looked to be debating with himself about whether or not to actually help. In the end, he decided to grab Jonathan's feet. The two walked as quickly as they could, occasionally stopping to send up sparks, hoping that someone would see them.

"Who's out there?" Scorpius called. They could hear someone moving around in the forest.

They continued moving, as the sounds of the attacker continued to sound through the darkness of the forest. A flash of white light stopped them as Scorpius dropped Jonathan. He looked down and saw a deep cut on his arm; it had gone through his robes.

"Are you alright?" asked Albus. "Can you pick him up? We need to get back to the school."

"Albus, my arm hurts and it's bleeding a lot," Scorpius said. "One of us is going to have to go and get help."

"No" said Albus quickly. "Neither one of us is going anywhere." His green eyes flashed intently.

"Fine, but I can't carry him," said Scorpius.

"I hope this works," Albus said. "_Wingardium Leviosa_," he said, pointing his wand at Jonathan. The young boy was lifted into the air, his body still limp.

"Albus, be careful," Scorpius warned as they kept walking, "that spell isn't supposed to be used on people."

They walked slowly, still hearing the movement around them. Jonathan's limp body wavered occasionally. The spell seemed barely able to carry him. Scorpius led the way, using his lit wand to guide them. The forest and its tall trees blocked any light form the moon and for the most part, the sky could not be seen. Shadows began to look like other things as the children's imaginations got the best of them. Their hearts pounded and as they looked around, they could not be sure that what they thought was shadows were really just that.

_Thud. _

That was the sound Albus heard as he saw Scorpius drop to the floor. He rushed to his friend and saw that he had been placed under a full body bind. A jet of red light flashed and he knew that Scorpius had been stunned.

_I've got to move them,_ thought Albus. He could not think of anyway to move them both at the same time and panic set it. Whoever had been after them was still out there, and he did not have any clue whatsoever as to what the person wanted or who the person was.

He was going to try and do something when he watched as both of their bodies somehow vanished. He thought he felt that reminded him of an egg being cracked around his ankles. His instincts told him that he needed to get out of there, and fast. Using his wand, he marked an outline of where he had last seen his friends limp bodies and he started to run.

He ran quickly, feeling his heart race. Sweat poured from him and something in the back of his mind told him not to leave his friends behind. He knew he needed to save them, and after about five minutes of running, he turned on his heels and ran back in their direction. Off to the side, he once again saw a figure. There was a flash of green light and no sound penetrated the darkness. Albus fell to the ground…

**Author's Note:** How'd ya like that cliffhanger? I figured that I needed to give you a really big one. Thanks to all those who reviewed that last chapter. And please be sure to review this one. 


	9. The Changing Of The Guard

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Thanks to all the people who constantly review (PhinalPhantasy, RemusSiriusJames, Sarah). Keep reviewing! The next chapter will be out soon as I now apparently have been bitten by the writing bug and I just want to keep writing.

"Is Kingsley going to be alright?" asked Ginny, lying in the bed, next to her husband. Her hands and legs were casually draped over him. Her red hair was lying wildly on the pillow.

"The Healers are doing all that they can do for him," Harry explained. "When I left, they were researching what kind of poison it was that he had."

"Do you think that this Vespa woman is behind it?" she asked.

"There's no doubt in my mind," Harry said simply.

A momentary silence broke out between the two of them. Harry stroked his wife's hair.

"How long is he going to be in St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"No one can be sure but they said we shouldn't expect him out anytime soon," he said quietly. Harry knew what she was getting at. He was, after all, Deputy Minister Of Magic, as well as the head of the Auror Department.

"You're going to be busy," she said.

"Always," he replied.

"Will you be able to handle doing both at once?" she asked, leaning in and placing her head on his chest.

"I'll have to," he said. "And it's not like I'll be by myself. Ron will be there to help me."

"You know you're going to have a hell of a day tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Harry said. The Daily Prophet would be publishing the news of the attacks in the morning. Along with it would come the news of Kingsley getting sick, and Harry being appointed as temporary Minister of Magic.

"Let's not think about it tonight," she suggested. It had always been in her nature to try and keep Harry's mind off of work when she could help it. "Tonight, let's forget about all of that."

"I love you," he smiled at her, and he bent his neck down and began to kiss and caress his wife.

"I love you two," she smiled, pulling the covers up over the two of them. She lay on her side, turning her back to Harry. He did the same, throwing his arm over his wife and grabbing her hand in his.

The two soon fell asleep in one another's arms. Quietly breathing, the husband and wife pair barely heard a soft tapping at their bedroom windows. It was not until the tapping grew quite louder that one of them stirred.

"What in the hell?" came the groggy voice of Harry Potter. He placed his glasses on his face and looked at the time. It was just before 2 in the morning. Turning and looking at the window, he saw a very unfamiliar owl tapping.

Opening the window and taking the note from the owl, he wondered who was it that would be sending him a message at such an hour. The owl flew away and Harry looked at Ginny, noticing that she had barley stirred since the owl tapped.

Harry opened the letter, reading it quickly. He became panicked. The letter said that Albus, along with others had been attacked in the Forbidden Forest. Albus was alright, and was currently in the Hospital Wing until the morning.

"Ginny," Harry urgently shook his wife, "wake up."

She stirred and then sat up, looking at her husband like he had lost his mind. "What is it?" she asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"We need to get to the school," he said, standing and heading towards the door to.

"Why?" she asked, now throwing on her bathrobe on. "What's happened?"

"Albus and some other children were in the Forbidden Forest. They were attacked," Harry explained.

"By who?" she asked, now anticipating the worst. "Is Albus alright?"

"He's fine," Harry continued. "He's in the Hospital Wing. I don't have all the details." He paused for a moment. "I'm going to get Lily over to Ron and Hermione's. We'll pick her up on our way back."

Within an hour, the two frantic parents had arrived at Hogwarts. They were not that worried about Albus, as the note explained that he just needed to rest up until the morning. They were more concerned about who had attacked him, and how they had gotten through the wards at Hogwarts.

The halls of their former school were empty, considering that most of the students had long since gone to bed. They remembered the way to the Hospital Wing quite well, as Harry had spent much of his time there during his 7 years there.

Entering the room, they were greeted by a Madame Pomfrey, looking much more elderly than she had during their years, but still moving like she had not gotten a day older.

"Harry. Ginny," Greeted Neville, who was wearing his night clothes. He hugged Harry and patted him on the back. Kissing Ginny on the cheek, he hugged her as well. "I'm sorry that you had to come under these circumstances."

"It's alright," Harry said, looking past Neville and staring at his sleeping son. Harry now knew what everyone else felt whenever they had seen him laying on one of those beds. _He looks so much like me_, Harry thought to himself. "Who attacked him?"

"We're not sure," Neville said, directing Harry and Ginny to seats in front of one of the drawn curtains. "It wasn't any creature, that's for sure."

"What were they doing in the forest in the first place?" Harry asked, and he was trying to keep his tone as calm as he could, despite the anger swelling up in his chest.

"They went down to Hagrid's," Neville explained. "They thought they heard him in the forest, so they followed the sound."

"Who could have done this?" Harry asked, bewildered by the whole ordeal. "Have you checked the wards yet?"

"The Headmaster is doing it now."

"Who was he with?" Ginny asked, placing her hand on Albus' leg.

"My son for one," Came a voice as the curtain behind them separated. "Potter, Weasley," said the voice of Draco Malfoy. He greeted the two as warmly he could, though his voice was still quite ice cold.

"It's Potter now, Malfoy," Ginny corrected the man. She looked over at his son, noticing that he was asleep as well. "How is he?"

"Just as well off as yours, I expect," Malfoy said. "Potter, even here at Hogwarts, he wasn't safe. I'm taking this into my own hands."

Ginny sensed an argument coming on. She squeezed her husband on the shoulder before asking Neville to accompany her to the Gryffindor Common room to wake James and tell him of his brother.

"Malfoy, if I remember correctly, last time you tangled with her, she almost killed you," Harry reminded the man.

"Yeah well, I was unprepared," Malfoy tried to reason. "Next time, she's all mine."

"Malfoy, I understand how angry you are. I'm just as angry, but until we have more of a grasp on the situation, nothing can be done."

"That's your problem Potter," Malfoy started, "you've lost your edge. At least when you were facing the Dark Lord, you knew what to expect. Now, you've turned into some kind of weakling who won't make a move until it's too late. The time for action is now…before any more people get hurt."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. With you being Head Auror and all," Malfoy smirked. "If I can find out about those attacks, and I don't even play for that side anymore, I know that you know about them."

"How did you find out about those attacks? What else do you know?" Harry asked.

"You'll do well to keep contacts Potter," Malfoy said. "The Malfoy's name is mud with mostly everyone, but not everyone. I keep a few people close, and they tell me a little information."

"Like what, Malfoy?" asked Harry, eager to know if the man knew anything.

"I'm not saying a word," Malfoy retorted. "If I tell you what I know, then you'll go in, wands blazing, and I don't get my revenge."

"You know, Malfoy, that as Head of the Auror Department I can make you talk," Harry said menacingly. He smirked at the man.

"You won't make me do a thing, Potter," Malfoy said simply. "And stop trying to change the topic. My son is lying in a bed in a magically induced sleep because you couldn't stop this bitch from becoming more of a threat. Now, not only is my family in danger, but so is the entire magical world." His words were clear and carefully chosen. He was angry and his temper would soon get the best of him.

Harry noticed the pain in his voice and decided to soften his own tone a bit. "Malfoy, I understand and I sympathize with you; my son is sleeping right next to yours. But I can't do anything until we have solid information. For all I know, Vespa doesn't really exist and it's just an alias. But if you have any information, any information at all, I'm pleading with you to give it to me."

Malfoy looked at Harry apprehensively. "Fine," he replied. "I'm not giving you anything though. You'll have to dig it all up yourself."

"So what can you give me?" asked Harry.

"I can give you a name and a place," he said.

"That's better than nothing," Harry said.

"The name is Charlie Eastman," Malfoy said. "He frequents Borgin and Burke's but on most nights he can be found at the Dragon's Den."

"You mean that run down pub in Knockturn Alley?"

"The one and only," Malfoy said. "When you speak to him, be sure not to mention my name, and you may want to make sure that you've got somewhere to take him, because if the two of you are seen together for too long, word will get out."

"Thanks," Harry said.

"No need to thank me Potter," Malfoy said, "just know that you owe me one."

The door to the Hospital Wing creaked open. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I was on an expedition," came a voice from the door.

Harry recognized the voice immediately. It had lost some of its dreaminess through the years, but since he had known her for so long and had seen her just a few months prior, he knew her tone.

Luna Lovegood had matured a lot in the years since Hogwarts. She had left behind some of her youthful imagination, foregoing talks of Crumple Horned Snorkacks. Yet in her life time, she kept her true nature and had gone on to discover many new species of creatures and had even married the grandson of the writer of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. Physically, not much had changed. Her eyes were silvery gray, and her eyebrows had finally grown in, causing the surprised look from her youth to vanish. Her dirty blonde hair was shorter now, and braided in two elegant braids that ended at her shoulders. Her face still bore the dreamy expression that defined her.

"Oh, so sorry," she apologized. "I thought you two were Madame Pomfrey."

"It's alright Luna," Harry said, walking over to greet his friend. "What brings you here this time of night?"

"Well, Neville said something about there being an attack," she said. She walked over to where the curtains were still drawn and pulled them back, revealing her son, who, like the other, was asleep. She placed a hand on his forehead and began absentmindedly stroking his hair. "Do you know who attacked them?"

"Nothing solid, but we're working on things," Harry said.

"I hope you figure this out soon Harry," she said. "I don't want to have to come up here again, unless it's for something good."

"You're not the only one," Malfoy growled.

"Is Ginny around?" Luna asked.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Neville and she went to the Gryffindor Common Room to wake James."

"I'll go say hello," she said. She headed out the room, humming under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like "Weasley Is Our King".

"She's always had one foot in the loony bin," said Malfoy.

"I think she's quite charming," Harry smirked.

0000000

The following morning found Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and quite a few Ministry officials inside Harry's office. Harry was being sworn in a temporary Minister of Magic. If he were being made permanent Minister, then the ceremony would be much larger.

"Harry James Potter," began Jonas Hughes, speaker for the Wizengamot, "current Head of the Auror Department, Order of Merlin First Class, so and so forth, do you swear to temporarily uphold the creeds and ideals set forth by the Governing Magical Bodies?"

Harry, who was holding up his right hand while Jonas was pointing his wand at Harry's chest, swore, "I do." Jonas' wand spit out a little golden light that hovered above Harry for a moment before disappearing.

"Do you swear to temporarily protect the Magical Community from any and all threats to the best of your abilities?" Jonas asked.

"I do," Harry swore once more and Jonas' wand again emitted a golden light that soon vanished.

"And finally, do you agree to be fair and just? To lead and guide us until time comes for you to release the duties from which you have been set forth?"

"I do," Harry said, and Jonas' wand did the same thing.

"Congratulations," Jonas smiled. "I now present to all those present, Temporary Minister of Magic, Harry James Potter."

A small applause broke out in the room. Harry smiled, and nodded. Within an hour, everyone had left the room, except for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Harry sat at his desk, leaning back.

"Harry, how does it feel?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You're the most powerful man in the magical world right now," she said. "You control the Auror's and the laws."

Harry thought for a moment. "It's a bit overwhelming to state the truth," he said.

"You've faced much worse," Ron said.

"I don't want to get used to it though," Harry said. "Kingsley will be out of St. Mungo's soon enough, and things will be back to normal."

"Well as normal as things can be with a mad woman on the loose," Ginny said.

"Well, that's our biggest concern right now," said Harry. "I'm a little scared to go outside. That issue of the Daily Prophet hit the streets this morning, and when everyone gets the news of the new threat, there will be a couple of Howlers in the building. Hermione, has you're department set the obliviators on stand by like I asked?"

"Not yet, Harry," she said. "We aren't really getting things done. McDougal is so worried about losing his position that he doesn't want to make any moves, as it might upset his chances of getting reappointed."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, now getting angry. "Well, as my first official act as acting Minister, I promote Hermione Granger to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Ron and Ginny beamed and congratulated Hermione, who stayed quiet.

"What's wrong love?" asked Ron, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I'm not taking the job," she said, much to everyone's shock.

"Why not?" asked Harry, though he already had an inkling as to why she did not want the job.

"Everyone knows Harry and I are friends," she began to explain. "They also know how much I wanted the job. They'll all think that Harry gave me the job because we're friends."

"Hermione, when you married my brother, how did you end up with that trademark Weasley stubbornness?" Ginny asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Harry, don't think that I'm not grateful, but, I just can't accept it," Hermione said.

"I understand," Harry said.

"She's taking the job," Ron said firmly to Harry. He then turned to his wife. "Hermione, who cares what they all say? We've all endured much worse muttering than that. If they want to talk, let them do so. And if they say anything to you about it, show them your outstanding record and then ask them if Harry appointed you only because of your friendship."

Hermione beamed, staring lovingly at her husband. "Oh, Ron," she smiled, kissing him passionately.

"You've come a long way, big brother," Ginny said.

00000000000

"Nightstar, have you seen the papers yet?" asked Vespa.

"Yes," he smiled. "Those raids were quite a bit of fun."

"I can imagine so," Vespa said. "Were you able to get to Potter's children?"

Nightstar looked a little scared to speak. "I, myself, was unable to do it. But I had already taken a few precautions and as such, we now have someone at Hogwarts."

"Excellent. Who was attacked?"

"We lucked out," Nightstar said. "Little Albus Severus Potter just happens to be friends with Scorpius Malfoy. The two were attacked at the same time. Nothing too serious, but just enough to send a message to both of their fathers."

"Well Anton," Vespa began, "it seems that things have come to fruition. We now have Harry Potter where he needs to be. Kingsley will be dead soon. A spy is in place at Hogwarts, and our numbers have swollen. I don't think its enough though."

"Really?" Nightstar asked. "I believe this all to be enough to take down Potter and his family."

"No," she said, "not yet. I will need the help of a few old friends."

"From where?"

"Azkaban."


	10. The New Rising

Author's Note: I'm happy this chapter is done so quickly, and I want everyone to keep reviewing it. This chapter has more action in it than the others. Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter.

"You're going to need a disguise," Ron said, staring at his best friend. The duo was preparing to go to Knockturn Alley to seek out Charlie Eastman so that they could question him.

"I know that," Harry said. "I'm temporary Minister, and Head of the Aurors."

"Yeah," Ron began, "but you're also Harry Potter." He thought for a moment. "I'll need one too I suppose. This red hair means Weasley from a mile away."

"Why don't I just use the invisibility cloak and you disguise yourself?" Harry suggested.

"Sure, why not? It's not like we're risking our lives just by going in to Knockturn Alley or anything." Ron said grimly.

An hour or so later, Ron and Harry found themselves walking down the street from Diagon Alley to the seedier part of the shopping area, known as Knockturn Alley. Harry was underneath his Invisibility Cloak, following Ron closely. He was taking special care not to bump into anyone.

The sky above Knockturn Alley seemed to be darker than that of Diagon Alley. It seemed to radiate some sort of darkness that Diagon Alley did not have. The shops sold much darker items, and indeed many of the items there, Harry recognized them as being cursed or stolen. If it were an ordinary day, he would have had them arrested, but he was there for a much larger purpose.

The Dragon's Den pub was towards the end of the narrow lane. The windows were very dark, perhaps from magic, perhaps from one too many fires inside. The sign looked to be decrepit, halfway falling down from its posting. The inside, matched the outside. There were several stools pulled up to the bar, as well as a couple of tables with a few chairs at them. A thick layer of dust covered the inside windows, and parts of the floor that were not stepped on. A couple of menacing looking people sat at random places in the bar, tall glasses of foreign smelling liquids in their hands.

Harry looked at Ron, able to read what his expression was saying. _Which one is he? _They both thought. Harry would have liked to said something, but besides the sounds of the wireless on the other end of the room, and the clanking of glasses, the room was quiet.

Ron's mind raced, as it appeared he had been standing there alone for quite sometime. Though he had changed his appearance, someone standing in the doorway for quite so long was still something that disrupted the mellow vibes of the room.

"I'm looking for Charlie Eastman," Ron said in a voice that Harry noticed was much deeper and rougher than his own. No one in the bar looked up or even made any indication that they had heard him. Ron walked over to the bar, taking a seat.

"I'm looking for Charlie Eastman," he said once more, this time talking only to the bartender.

"I don't know any Charlie Eastman," said the bartender who turned to walk to the other end. Ron stood up a little bit and grabbed the man's arm.

"I think you do know em," said Ron. "If you don't tell me which one of these miserable blokes he is, I'll blast this place apart until he finds himself." He swept his arm across the bar, knocking several glasses on the ground.

"You don't scare me," the bartender said, not seeming to be unnerved by the threat. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at Ron. "Now, I think it's time for you to go, before things have to get dangerous."

"I suggest you move that damn thing from out of my face before I move it," Ron threatened.

"Stup-"

In an instant, Ron had grabbed the man's wand, threw it across the room and had grabbed his entire arm and twisted it until all that was heard was a loud crack. Harry looked on, wishing that Ron had not gone that far, but still eager to find Eastman.

"I just broke your arm," Ron said. "Now, if you don't tell me which one Charlie Eastman is, I'll keep breaking things." Ron, still holding the man's arm looked up at the people in the pub who were watching. "You hear that boys? I'm handing out Lemon Drops and ass kicking's and I'm all out of Lemon Drops. Now, which one of you is Charlie Eastman?"

Harry applauded Ron silently. He knew that Ron had become a lot tougher through the years. He also knew that what Ron was doing now was not in his nature. Ron had changed his appearance a lot so that they could penetrate Diagon Alley. He had changed his hair color and given himself scars and tattoos across his body. Harry knew that his best friend was only doing this so that his outward appearance would match the fabricated attitude.

"I'm Charlie Eastman," said one of the men at the far end of the bar. Ron released the bartender and Harry followed Ron to the back.

"Why didn't you speak up when I asked for you?" Ron asked.

"I like to be needed, and you needed me," said the man. "Now, what did you need me for?"

"I need to talk to you," Ron said.

"I've never seen you a day before in my life, and you want to talk to me?" He asked. "What do you need?"

"What?"

"People only come to me for one thing: information. So if you're coming looking for me, that's what you want."

"Maybe," Ron said. "But I'm not saying another word here. You never know who could be listening.

"You're right about that, I suppose," he said. "Where are we off to then?"

"I know a place," said Ron, grabbing Charlie by the arm. "Ready?"

"Sure, why the hell not?" Responded Eastman. The three vanished with a loud crack.

They reappeared in a dark room, housing only a table and a few chairs. A fire was lit and the door was locked. Ron directed Eastman to one of the chairs while Harry took off his cloak, and Ron undid the charms on himself.

"Great," said Eastman, "just great. Of all the blokes to find me, I get found by the Minister of Magic and a damn auror."

"Stop complaining, Eastman," said Harry, taking a seat. "We need some information, and I hear that you're just the person to give it to me."

"And don't try to apparate, it wont work," said Ron, also taking a seat.

"What can you tell us about Vespa LeStrange?" Harry asked.

The man stared at the pair before him, surveying them up and down. He knew that it would be wise to cooperate with them, but he was never one to snitch.

"I know that I can't tell you anything about her," said Eastman.

"What the bloody hell do you mean?" asked Ron.

"I mean," Eastman began, "that I won't say a word about her."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Word's gone out around the alley. Anyone who says anything about her will wish they were dead."

"You know we could use Veritaserum or some other way to get you to tell us the truth, right? Harry said.

"And who's to say that I haven't taken precautions against that already?" Eastman smirked. "Potter, how are the kids?"

Harry stood up and grabbed the man by his collar, throwing him against the wall. "Look here," Harry said, "This little investigation in as far under everyone's noses as I can make it. No one in that pub knows where you are. I could beat your ass all day long for mentioning my kids and no one would know about it."

"Well, well, seems like I've hit a nerve," Eastman said. "I'm not telling you a word about Vespa, and I mean it."

"What do you know about those attacks?" asked Ron. "I know that you said something about them to someone."

"I know that she wasn't at a single one of em. I know that they were all carried out at the same time," he said. "Let's look at that little fact. 14 attacks all carried out at once. 14 neighborhoods all destroyed at one time. That means that 14 different squads had to be at 14 places, which means-"

"The bitch has an army," said Ron. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.

"What else do you know?" asked Harry, feeling so very eager to hear more.

"Potter, give me a good reason to help you," Eastman said. "You could torture me, but I know your type. You won't go too far with it, if you even have the courage to do it."

"Eastman, I could throw you in Azkaban for not cooperating with a Ministry Investigation," said Harry.

"Azkaban doesn't scare me," he responded.

"I didn't want to have to do this," said Ron, summoning a folder. He opened it and threw pictures down on the table. "We did our homework on you, Charlie Eastman. We ran a little search for your name, and it came up a bunch of times. It seems that you have a little problem betting on Quidditch. You owe money to some very powerful foreigners. From what we can tell, they've been looking for you, and if you don't tell us what we want to know, they might be able to find you."

They could both tell that Ron's words had struck a cord with Charlie Eastman. A line of sweat broke out at his forehead. He looked nervous now. "Well, seems like you've backed me into a wall," he said.

"Seems like it," Harry said. "Now, talk."

"I don't know much about her," said Eastman. "She's a well kept secret, that one. I know for a fact that she is old Bella's daughter. I don't have the slightest inkling as to who her father is."

"That's a good start, keep going," said Harry.

"She wants you dead, Potter. She wants it more than she wants her next breath. Don't ask me why though. I just know that's what she wants. She idolizes the Dark Lord."

"Who are her followers?"

"She's following in You-Know-Who's footsteps. She's trying to rally the purebloods, and she's doing a damn good job of it. But you won't be able to figure out who she's got in the army of hers. The only person you might be able to get is her right hand man."

"What's his name?" asked Ron.

"No," said Eastman, now appearing to be quite scared. "I'm not talking about him."

"Why the hell not?" asked Harry, pointing to the pictures on the table, showing Eastman with many foreigners.

"Vespa is dangerous because no one knows what she can do. He's more of a threat because I know what he can do. You've seen his work too. Those four muggles that were killed, he did it for fun."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "You seem to know an awful lot about them for someone who's not in their little group."

"What can I say? I'm a well informed man," he said, regaining his cool and leaning back in the chair.

"You're a little too well informed. Who's your source?" asked Ron.

"I don't reveal my sources," he said simply.

"Fine," began Harry, "one last question. Who attacked my children?"

"I don't know, but I do know that it won't be the last time that it happens," he said.

Ron and Harry stepped out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them. They needed to talk about what they had just learned.

"He knows more than he's saying," said Ron. "I think we should use Veritaserum. All his talk about taking precautions against it was just to save his own ass."

"You're right," said Harry. "I want to know who this guy is he's talking about. Plus, he hasn't really told us much that we hadn't already known."

"Let's go back in," Ron said.

0000000

Vespa stood at the front of a large room. Standing directly to her left was Anton Nightstar. They both were facing a large crowd of people, all waiting very patiently for the woman to speak.

"Tonight," she began, carefully choosing he words, "we will liberate Azkaban Prison."

A murmur went through the crowd. Clearly they had not been expecting this to happen. They thought it would be just another routine meeting. Vespa had other plans. The only person who she ever kept fully informed of everything was Nightstar.

"We will be leaving shortly," she continued, holding up a hand to silence the crowd. "The Dementors will be of no concern to us. Security has been increased since they learned of our threat, but this is of no concern to us. We shall simply overwhelm them. Be sure that you do not harm any of the prisoners."

The crowd kept silent. They looked to one another, none of them daring to speak. Finally, one of them raised their hands.

"You have a question," said Vespa.

"Yes, my liege," said the man quietly, wondering if he should even dare to ask. "How do we get to Azkaban?"

"No need to fret," said Vespa. "You will do well to ask questions." She looked at him and saw a relax look come into his eyes. "And yet…_Crucio_," she pointed her wand at him. He dropped to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain. "You are all dismissed," she said. "You will feel the mark burn when it is time for you to go."

The crowd vanished with a few loud cracks. The man on the floor continued to scream in pain while Vespa spoke to Nightstar.

"You will lead them," she said. "I must take care of the Dementors."

"Very well," he responded. "Do you really think he will know anything?"

"I believe he should," she responded. "And even if he doesn't, liberating Azkaban will certainly do nothing to help boost the morale for Potter."

"The place could just be a myth though," he reminded her.

"And if it is, we shall deal with it."

0000000

"Has anyone solved the Scavenger Hunt Clue yet?" asked Albus, sitting in one of the comfy arm chairs in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Why are you worrying about the clue?" came the voice of a very concerned looking Rose. "Shouldn't you be more worried about who attacked you? And what about all of those attacks?"

"Rose, there's no way we can tell who it was," said Albus.

"But you said you thought you saw someone right before you went into the woods," she exclaimed, trying to make her cousin see her side.

"Yeah, I probably did see someone," he said, thinking back, "and that was probably the person who attacked me. But my dad will figure it out."

"Albus Severus Potter!" said Rose quite loudly, catching a few stares from others in the room. "Your father has more than enough things to worry about, or have you forgotten the 4 pages of the Daily Prophet we read this morning?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," said Albus quietly. "You're right."

"So, it looks as though we've got a mystery on our hands," said Jonathan, speaking for the first time.

"So I've been doing a little research," Rose began, breaking the silence, "and I asked Aunt Ginny, and she told me that Professor McGonagall checked the wards, and they had not been disturbed or anything. So that means-"

"That whoever attacked us was already inside the wards," finished Albus.

"It could have been a Professor," suggested Jonathan, catching strange looks from both of his best friends. "Rose, who found us?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Hagrid had gone into the forest to gather some unicorn hairs when he found you three," she said.

"He didn't really look around or anything," she continued, "he just brought you up to the school and Professor Longbottom helped him bring you to the Hospital Ward."

"Why was he out so late?" asked Jonathan.

"Good question," she replied.

0000000

"No one can apparate directly onto Azkaban," Vespa began. She was addressing her followers once again. Hours had passed, and they were preparing for their raid on Azkaban prison. "Therefore, you will wait on the shores a few miles away until I give you my signal."

Though they did not know what the signal was, none of them dared to ask what it would be. The man who had asked her a question earlier was not standing among their ranks, and wherever he was, they did not want to be.

As they stood there, a few of them wondered whether or not they should even attempt it. Last time someone had rallied people like this, it was You-Know-Who, and though his intentions had been noble, and his skills prodigious, he had fallen. They wondered if she would end up the same way, and would they, like the Death Eaters of old, would end up imprisoned at the very prison they were going to break into.

"You know where to go," she smirked. "Now go and wait."

Several loud cracks were heard as the room emptied, leaving only Nightstar and Vespa.

"Aren't you going?" asked Nightstar, wondering why Vespa had not yet began her quest to the prison.

"I have other means of travel," she said. She turned to the window, staring at the moon for a second. "_Bombarda_," she whispered, blowing out the window and its glass. She gave Nightstar a last look before jumping out the window.

His eyes widened with shock as he rushed to the window, only to see Vespa flying north on what appeared to be a black cloud beneath her.

0000000

"Do you think he has a class now?" asked Jonathan.

"No, classes are done for the day unless you have astronomy," Rose reminded them. "He won't take kindly to us questioning him." She sounded worried.

"We won't make it seem like we're questioning him," said Albus, already planning out what he would say in his head. "We can just make it seem like we're curious about what happened."

They reached their Head of House's office and knocked on the door lightly. At first there was no response, but after another knock, they heard his voice inviting them in. They walked into the office, avoiding the many plants all around and each took a seat.

"What brings you here this evening?" He asked, sitting up intently. "Albus, Jonathan, are you feeling alright?"

"Much better now Professor," said Jonathan.

"That's just what we wanted to talk to you about," said Albus. "We were wondering…what happened after Hagrid found us? Rose filled us in on what she heard, but since you were there, you would know."

"You're so much like your father, "said Neville, "finding mysteries in everything. Harry always a hunch, and he was always right." He smiled, staring at Albus, his eyes glazed over. "I was on my way down to the Greenhouse. As you'll learn about in your 6th year, if you still take Herbology, Solaris flowers, will only grow if planted the night before the full moon and tended to with a special potion. Hagrid busted through the front doors, half carrying the three of you and I helped him to levitate you up to the Hospital Wing. I notified the Headmaster and your parents and waited for them to come."

"Did anyone inspect the spot where we were found?" asked Jonathan.

"I looked around this morning," he said. "It appeared that whoever attacked you dragged you lot closer to the front of the forest, almost like they wanted someone to find you."

"Professor," Albus began, "I saw someone that night."

"Really?" asked Neville, leaning forward, more intrigued.

"I…I'm not sure who it was, but I'm definitely sure that someone was there."

"Well," Neville began, "the matter is being looked into. Everyone is a bit on edge now, because somehow the news has gotten out that the wards had not been disrupted or tampered with in any way."

"Professor," Rose spoke up, "does that mean that whoever attacked them could still be on the grounds?"

"Yes," said Neville.

00000000

Vespa arrived at the prison, glaring at the menacing building. Azkaban was extremely tall and the building itself sat in the middle of the island upon which it sat. It gave off the feeling of desperation and despair.

Vespa landed directly on the front of the island, noticing the chill in the air and wondered whether it was coming from the Dementors or the cold October air. She looked up in the sky, noticing the flock of Dementors floating down towards her. They stopped in front of her, approaching quickly.

"Stop," she said, though they did not stop. "You understand me, I know this already. I am here to make you an offer. You join me and my group, and we shall let you have free reign over the muggles. All the feelings and emotions that you can handle."

The Dementors stopped their advances, staring at her. She assumed they were communicating as some sounds were coming from them. She was not just going to wait for them to make up their minds. Waving her wand, she summoned a large coffin. Using her heel to kick open the box, she revealed the man who had questioned her earlier inside. He was conscious and was scared out of his mind.

"Please….don't," he pleaded through sobs. "I'm sorry…" He cried hard, looking around wildly and feeling the chill of the Dementors.

"As a token of good faith, take his soul," she said. More Dementors from above came down and began to feed on the man. She could see him crying more and more and did not feel any remorse. "I take it that I now have free reign over this prison," she said. She turned from the Dementors and walked to the shore and began muttering very quickly. She needed to stay focused and make sure that she did this quickly. It would take much concentration for her to break the wards at the prison, and as soon as she broke through them, she knew that the Auror's inside would be notified.

"…_Apparatus Attero_," she finished muttering. She tried to apparate, and did so successfully. She sent her mark up, high into the sky. It was a giant pentagram.

She knew that within a few seconds, her followers would arrive. She rushed to the doors of the prison, blowing them off their hinges and staring at the shocked Aurors for a moment before killing them both.

Her heart pounded from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She was excited and so eager to kill. She blasted yet another door out of her way as she heard her people coming up behind her.

"_Stupefy_," shouted one of the aurors.

"_Protego_," she countered quickly, conjuring a shield so powerful that it knocked the auror back on his bottom.

"Petrificus Totalus," she muttered. She walked over to the man and kicked him hard in his face. "Crucio," she then muttered to the body bound man. It was quite a sight to watch as his eyes were bulging out of his head. Had he been able to move his body, he would have been screaming and writhing, but instead, he could only lie there, perfectly still.

"Do you know where he is?" came the voice of Nightstar. "I've already broken the drones into groups and they're doing what they need to do now."

"Yes," she said. "He's on the highest floor."

They ran wildly through the prison, killing aurors in more gruesome manners as they went. The Dementors made their way into the prison, where Vespa had left them a few Auror's to feed off of.

Finally, they reached the top floor of the prison. They knew that this floor housed most of the former Death Eaters, and indeed, they saw some of the names on the outsides of the cells.

"There's Mcnair," she pointed out. Every one of the prisoners looked to be a shell of his former self. "That's Avery…and there's Carrow, and her brother. And this," she said, pointing to one of the last cells on the floor, "is our man. Anton Nightstar, I'd like you to meet, Rodolphus LeStrange, the man who should have been my father."

"Who are you?" asked the man in the cell. His voice was so hollow and sounded like a death whisper.

"I'm your wife's daughter, and I need your help."

"How can I help you?" he asked, staring at her through yellowing eyes that sunk into his face.

"I know you and your wife were never that close, but I know that she discussed something with you," she said.

"Something like what?" he wondered.

"I need you to tell me where the Serpent's Lair is," she said. His eyes widened and something that looked like the beginnings of a smile were playing at the corners of his mouth.

000000

"He didn't know anything," said Ron. "He really did take precautions against Veritaserum. Do you think someone tipped him off about us coming?"

"No, I doubt it," Harry said. "Knowing so much stuff probably makes him a target to a lot of people."

"So, we really don't know much more than we knew before," Ron said. "We need a name, and we need someone to give it to us."

"Harry Potter! Minister Potter!" came a loud yell from the fireplace. Harry and Ron turned to the fireplace, only to see the head of one of the healers from St. Mungo's.

"Yes, has something happened with Kingsley?" asked Harry, kneeling down to the fireplace.

"I have both good news and bad news concerning him," said the man.

"Well give us the bad news first," said Ron.

"Okay, Mr. Shacklebolt has taken a turn for the worst. We are doing all that we can, but the situation looks to be dire," said the man.

Harry and Ron looked at one another, each showing a feeling of concern on his face. "What's the good news?" asked Harry, neither one of them seeing the flash of red light outside the door.

"We've identified the poison that Kingsley contracted. It was a very dark magic poison, and frankly, we do not understand how he got it."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"You see," the man began, "the poison that he has, must be administered in two parts. The first part can be given through an open wound, and in that stage it's dormant. But the second part has to be ingested."

"Ingested?" asked Ron. "As in, someone had to give him something? Kingsley went to see-"

"Charity," Harry concluded, drawing his wand and rushing to the door.

Harry opened the door to his office, and the sight that saw him shocked both him and Ron. Hermione was lying face down on the ground, apparently stunned while Charity had he wand pointed right at her.

"If either of you take one step closer," She said in a dangerously menacing voice, "I swear to Merlin that I'll kill Mrs. Weasley here."


End file.
